Colliding Together
by Anonymous001
Summary: Begins with 69th Hunger Games. She crept up on me. Fallout over Finnick's responsibility to the Capitol. Unexpected 70th Hunger Games reaping but not because Annie was reaped. 70th Hunger Game. Life after becoming victor. Struggle. Heal. Alternating Annie and Finnick's POV
1. Chapter 1: First Encounter

**Chapter One: First Encounter**

_Annie POV_

Morning mist from the sea creeps over the rocks, settling around my feet and past the land behind me. Beneath my toes, grains of salt rub against the moist grey rocks and a cool breeze is welcomed as I let it blow my long brown billowing hair back behind my slim shoulders.

For now, District Four is peaceful. No peacekeepers out and about, no sickened children crying out for parents who are unable to attend to their needs whether due to a lack of resources or lack of parents themselves, no family to worry about.

Family. The words almost makes me laugh. It's been quite sometime since I've been a part of one. Drunk father who literally drowned himself in a bowl of spirits by passing out, after my mother walked into the sea before we realized what was happening thus drowning herself, after she had left my little brother unattended in the small wash bin where he drowned.

Drowned. Drowned. Drowned.

What cruel fortune, with a sinister smile, found delight in having every single one of my family members drown in all very different manners? An irony so profound, considering we live in District Four, that a deranged smile plays at my lips.

Grief has morphed itself into controllable insanity. It used to be a lot worse. For many nights I had walked the beach laughing hysterically with the moonlight. Then months later, it dawned on me that the moon, light, nor moonlight don't laugh.

Thankfully my midnight strolls occurred in the depths of darkness, so no one knew the extent to which I'd lost my mind. And enough time passed, I've been able to recover most of the bits and pieces.

I really do believe everything will be okay for me. One day, I know I will completely heal. As long as nothing else happens to disrupt my painfully slow, yet far proceeded progress. One day. Not now. But it will come.

There's somebody behind me. Their presence has disrupted the mist particles. Well, honestly I'm not sure if that's the case. I do know someone is here though.

"You weren't at The Shack when I went to check on you." a soft young woman's voice whispers.

She's only seventeen, like me, but while I still consider myself a young girl, Yurol is my best friend who I see as a young girl bequeathed the responsibilities one should not shoulder until another several years have passed; the weight has caused her to transform into a young woman already grown in decades.

Fishing boats, with their sides draped in algae-covered golden nets, rock beneath the small waves toppling on the surface of a glistening turquoise sea. I'm thinking about how it must feel to be trapped beneath those boats, surrounded by nothing but water as if fills my nostrils and lungs as every breath desperately aches for the air only feet above.

That is how they all died. I refuse to die by drowning. The only reason I haven't killed myself. I mean, I'm better now so I wouldn't. But before. That's the reason.

To directly partake in ending my life feels wrong. It's not that I don't understand or don't agree with it because I do. The former is something I cannot explain however. But swimming into the ocean until my arms grew too tired wouldn't have felt wrong. The ocean would have taken me. As it took my mother. Following in her footsteps it would appear.

But now that I fear drowning, my last option aside from natural causes is no longer a decision I will make. In this beauty, thoughts of my death still cloud my mind. Cloudy like mist. Mist and its particles. Yurol is still behind me, isn't she?

I'm grateful she is used to my periods of silence before I come around to answering. "It's hard to sleep there at times, you know," when the wind sends me light kisses from the mother I loss at sea, but I filter my thought because it's not appropriate, "when Binsen snores loud enough to wake the dead."

Sometimes I don't believe that Yurol doesn't know my mind is fractured because she always pauses with this strange analyzing silence. But she never says anything or asks if I'm okay. Perhaps it's a mutual relationship.

That pause, then. "I know, I won't say I haven't been tempted to throw water on him just to wake him from his dreadful nose clogged wheezing and huffing." A girly laugh which means Yurol is sincerely attempting to snap me out of my daze. Being my best friend, she usually can for the whole day with a quirky remark.

I'm back to reality. "Or hold his nose shut until he sputters awake!"

We giggle at the thought of Binsen, the owner of The Shack, receiving a rude awakening. The Shack is a decent dine-inn considering peacekeepers have only approved several requests for other dine-inns to be built.

When our giggling subsides, I get up and turn to face Yurol. Wavy black hair that falls around her green eyes and ends at her waist. Beautiful even if she looks worn out with the ever present hint of a grave expression.

Both her parents were shot by peacekeepers for attempting to intervene with the reaping of their eighteen year old son, Minul, when there was strangely no boy volunteers as career tributes. He'd been sick for awhile and wouldn't have lived a few months pass the 68th Hunger Games.

I guess they both couldn't bear the thought of losing him before his appointed time. They left Yurol with two younger brothers to care for after their deaths. Minul died in the initial bloodbath at Cornucopia.

What chance of running away did a skeleton-thin sick boy have? Despite his improbable chances of winning or making it to the second day, the sharp inhale between a cry and a gasp that Yurol made upon seeing a spear driven through Minul's throat gave me the shudders.

The District Two girl, Heria, is the one who speared him. She was shown on screen to be standing in the spray of blood from Minul's throat, reddening her orange hair, with an amused smile the whole time. Those hazel eyes seemed to stare into the screen, announcing she wanted all the districts to know her face. Later, she was crowned the victor.

After she'd wrapped a boy from District Twelve in a blanket, tied him to a barren tree's branch, and lit a fire beneath to let him roast for nearly an hour before a canon boomed; tied a girl from District Six against a fourteen foot cactus with needles two inches long which drove into the girl's back and arms, and then proceeded to take two hours to cut off all the girl's fingers and toes before leaving the girl to be eaten by lizard muttations that slowly ate the girl from bottom to top for another hour until all her innards fell to the desert floor leaving a half body's cavity empty; dug her fingers, as in plural, into the eye sockets of a boy from Ten, used a rope as a collar and lead him around like a pet, making him beg for rotted scraps of food, kicking him when he cried, throwing rocks of all sizes and edges at him when she grew bored, forcing him to relieve himself in his clothes until they became so soiled that infection spread and killed him when she saw the pus ridden wounds and left him on the sand to await death for next two days; and lastly, lured the other final tribute, a boy from Three, into quicksand where she shot him with arrows, one by one, until he nearly resembled a porcupine.

Those are only the tortuous deaths she inflicted. At Cornucopia she killed Minul, the two tributes from District Nine, and a girl from Eleven. Something is terribly wrong with Heria, it's easy to tell she enjoyed the kills and would have exacted out torture for all the tributes given the chance.

Poor Minul. Poor Yurol.

She can tell I'm thinking, but doesn't ask about what. Instead, she nods her head in the direction of our village. "Let's go back. The mist is clearing up, and the peacekeepers are going to make their rounds. You know the won't be happy if The Shack is closed because their best waitress has gone missing."

"What would I do without you?" I ask jokingly, and we begin walking.

"Break into a million pieces?" Then it looks like Yurol instantly regrets saying this.

But I don't want her to filter her thoughts, I don't want her to feel bad. She's always been here for me, and her question is pure truth. "I definitely would."

Yes, I, Annie Cresta, would have surely shattered into dust a long time ago without Yurol.

We link our arms and return to The Shack.

In time too as Binsen is thundering in the kitchen while Yurol and I step inside. "Where is that girl! We are supposed to open in four minutes. Four! Peacekeepers don't wait for their food."

Someone, who I can't distinguish, says. "She always comes even if it's a minute before we open. She'll be here."

The sound of a pot thrown against the ground _clangs_ loudly causing both of us to cringe. Then Binsen storms out of the kitchen, slamming the two metal doors into the walls covered in cracks for that very reason.

Immediately his face is contorted into a mixture of rage and relief. The left side of his face spasms since it can't be decided which of the two conflicting emotions should override the other. During this pause, I notice how his forming wrinkles against dark skin look like creases in leather. Random flecks of grey hair have invaded his jet black hair. Aside from his slightly round stomach, Binsen is in fair shape though.

Finally, "Every time you disappear and only reappear minutes before opening, it feels like my heart has exploded." There's no spite in his voice. He sounds relieved even if his mind decided to say angry words.

We can't help it. Unanimously, Yurol and I begin to laugh hysterically. Giggles and hitches in pitch bounce off the blackened wooden floors and concrete walls. The noise filling the room with life. Deflated from his outburst, Binsen clomps up the creaky stairs while muttering to himself. "They do that all the time, all the time. Don't even care if they'll be the death of me. Wretched, ungrateful..."

He knows we'll be ready to work before seven, and still laughing, we don't fail him.

I've set the twelve tables with utensils and clean rags for people to wipe their hands with. Swept the floors mainly to retrieve any fallen food since there will always be a thin layer of omnipresent sand on the floorboards. And Yurol is in the back waiting to wash the mound of dirty rags which will be coming her way in no time.

Exactly at seven, three peacekeepers come inside. They take a seat at a table with an ocean view from the open window, but are paying more attention to removing their helmets and not getting them dirty. I walk to their table, today's menu memorized since it changes so frequently depending on what fresh catch Joln has ensnared.

I catch the end of their conversation from Lionel, a black haired, blue eyed peacekeeper. "...arena will be this year?"

Derek, a blonde peacekeeper with blue eyes too, responds. "It better be something interesting. After that girl Heria last year, the audience won't be happy if it's not as entertaining."

Entertaining. My stomach becomes queasy. Their amusement is founded on the gruesome deaths she inflicted? It's one thing to know the Capitol enjoys watching the slaughter of district children, but it's an entirely different thing to meet people who hold the same view.

Apparently I've closed my eyes because I can't see through the darkness when someone asks. "Annie, feeling alright?"

Slowly my vision widens until I see Lionel, Derek, and Vonir looking at me. At this moment, the most I can focus on is Vonir's slightly slanted brown eyes, and I just know he's the one who asked the question. He's always been the kindest of the peacekeepers. That comforts me.

Adjust my mind to focus on the concerned brown. "Just didn't sleep well."

"Okay, you didn't look-"

"Hey, Odair!" Derek abruptly yells out the window, cutting Vonir off who conceals any annoyance he may have at this interruption.

Footsteps of a person jogging reach the window in seconds. Somebody is there now, but my eyes are still locked on Vonir. He knows something is wrong, but doesn't pursue. Slowly he directs his attention to the window, so I do the same.

A tall, shirtless, tan figure is leaning in through the open window with his veiny-muscular forearms resting against the windowsill. Several thick veins run all the way up his defined biceps that bulge at the slightest shift in angle at his elbow. His biceps lead to muscular shoulders, a hairless chiseled chest underneath, abs with so many muscle patterns that it's hard to follow, and protruding hipbones leading my eyes diagonally down where they can no longer follow since he's wearing light grey pants.

He. Of course there's a head attached to this body. How long have I been observing?

This seems to be on their mind because when I turn my eyes up, a pair of brilliant sea green irises hold my gaze, smooth lips formed into an amused smile. Seduction laces his voice as he slowly enunciates every letter, "Anything you like? I don't need the pants you know."

A beautifully sculpted face which drives almost every female in all of Panem crazy. Almost. I'm sure there are a few girls or women out there who feel the same as me.

Nothing, that is. Observing is one thing, feelings are irrelevant.

I still haven't answered his question. Was it a serious question? He hasn't said anything yet, and the peacekeepers seem to be waiting for my response as well.

My thoughts aren't distorted so I don't need to filter my next words, "No, and I don't see how that concerns me."

Derek begins to laugh, slapping the table. "Does that burn Finnick? Must be the first time you've been rejected."

All the peacekeepers begin to laugh while Finnick briefly looks at them shrugging with an unconcerned expression on his face, but he does glance at me again. Their laughter has settled down, and Finnick redirects his attention to them. He leans forward causing his arm muscles to tighten with further definition. It feels like his eyes are resisting the urge to look my way to check if I'm noticing these physical attributes.

Finnick asks, "So what were you guys talking about?"

Derek looks around the table. "We were trying to guess what the arena will be like this year. Have any idea?"

Finnick shakes his head. "You know I don't have access to that sort of information. What did you guys think of?"

Lionel says. "Maybe something tropical."

"Doubt it. They did that four years ago for my game." Finnick's face remains the same, but I notice the tendons in his neck stretch over skin. At fourteen, he was crowned victor, and the fame from that game has yet to putter out.

"Maybe," there's a fork between Vonir's fingers which he taps against the table thoughtfully, "an arctic theme."

Rubbing some dried salt off his left forearm, again Finnick shakes his head. "Nah, there was that one game when all those kids froze to death. The Capitol people were not happy with that ending."

Derek suggests, "Some kind of barren land?"

"They did that last year with the desert. The only reason it was eventful was because of that girl Heria. I'm pretty sure the gamemakers are going to make the arena more interesting this year than relying on the chance of reaping another savage victor." Finnick clears his throat. "Most victors don't go that far in killing the other tributes."

No one says anything, and I'm still standing here waiting to take their order. Suddenly, Finnick's eyes glance my way, and his lips form into a lazy smile. "Any ideas to contribute?"

It sickens me that he can talk so easily with the peacekeepers about the Hunger Games, going over theories and scenarios for amusement. Knowing two people are reaped from our home each year is _far_ from amusing, but Finnick's view seems to have been warped by too many visits to the Capitol.

How can he talk so casually about the games after winning? Why is he apparently so undamaged unlike the morphlings from Six, Haymitch Abernathy from Twelve? Or why doesn't he even seem to be less happy like how the other victors appear? Finnick is the only victor who has this lively, happy banter that radiates from him while other victors like Beetee or Wiress have a sad broken sense to them. The deaths and trauma from their games clearly affected all those victors. Maybe Finnick is like Heria, and the other tributes' deaths were meaningless and perhaps even enjoyable.

I cross my arms in dislike for Finnick now that I've interacted with him for the first time. "No," filter my thoughts because peacekeepers are present, "it's not something I _like_ to think about."

Lionel and Derek assume my comment depicts a fragile and innocent mind. While Vonir knows there's distaste in my remark. But I can see my true meaning is not loss on Finnick. There's resent in his bright green eyes at my accusation of him liking the Hunger Games. That he derives pleasure from thinking of ways in which twenty-three tributes will die depending on the arena.

His lazy smile tightens just a bit. "I see." Finnick turns to the peacekeepers. "Well, we'll see what's in store for us within the a week. Enjoy your breakfast, there's a few things I need to do."

With that, the oh so freaking famous Finnick Odair nonchalantly walks away from the window, an air of importance evident in his gait. At last, I return to my job and tell the peacekeepers the menu, they order, other customers come in. It's like any other day. Even if the reaping for the 69th Hunger Games is tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2: 69th Hunger Games Part 1

**Chapter Two: 69th Hunger Games Part 1**

_Annie POV_

Most people feel great apprehension on the day of the reaping out of concern for themselves. But I feel myself more worried about Yurol and her two brothers, Kenin and Joa. Only ages fifteen and thirteen. They all have a lot to lose. I, on the other hand, do not. Without hesitation, I would volunteer for Yurol if she were to be reaped because she has Kenin and Joa to take care of. They need her. I am cherished, but not needed.

A knock on my door disrupts my thoughts as I stare at myself in the mirror. "Come in."

Yurol, Kenin, and Joa are in my mirror now that the door is opened. Yurol is wearing a faded flowing yellow dress, a blue ribbon tied in her hair. Kenin and Joa are wearing loose white shirts with tan pants. Different in age, but they look very much like brothers since they have almost the same facial features, black hair, and blue eyes. My light blue dress is similar to Yurol's, not exactly though. Mines is simple while hers has frilly linings at the bottom.

I'm still looking at them through the mirror when Yurol tells me, "We should head to the Justice Building square now."

I turn around and leave The Shack with them. Yurol and I don't say anything because we're both worried about the possibility one of her brother's may be reaped again. Yurol may be worried about herself too, but I'm not because if it comes to that I can simply volunteer. But there's no way I can help Kenin or Joa.

We walk with the stream of people also making their way to the village square. Nervous chatter buzzes among the crowd, although Kenin and Joa seem to be oblivious to the anxiety. One would think considering Minul had been reaped, the reapings would induce more fear in his brothers. Clearly they believe their chances have been reduced because what are the odds someone in their family would be reaped in two consecutive years? But I don't want to mention Cashmere and Gloss.

"...go to that spot with all the coral and catch some of those blue fish after the reaping." I hear the end of Kenin's plans to Joa. Kenin gives Joa a little push. "We'll see who catches more this time. You got lucky last time."

Joa makes a face, "Luck? That was skill. You just suck."

Yurol and I laugh because Joa tends to be extremely prideful. Opposite of Kenin who is more playful and a jokester. We're only a few people away in line from having our blood tested for identification.

Seriously, Yurol puts her arms around Kenin and Joa. "Meet me-"

"At the sweet shop afterwards." Both Kenin and Joa say in unison. "We know."

Rolling his eyes, Joa says, "You say that every year."

Kenin adds, "Like we could forget when you tell us that twenty times every day of the reaping."

Yurol knows they're just being difficult because they're her brothers, so she puts her hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright.

"Next." an impatient voice says.

Yurol holds her finger out, but is looking back now that boys and girls will have to go their separate ways. "I love you both," her faces slightly grimaces as her finger is pricked, "very much."

Even Kenin and Joa have dropped their unconcerned attitudes. They both know this is an early goodbye in case she is reaped. Kenin tells Yurol as his finger is being pricked, "I love you too."

Joa calls out, "I love you too. See you afterwards."

"Next." an irritated voice says, and then I realize I'm holding up the line since I've been watching their exchange.

I wince a bit when my finger is pricked, and I rub my fingers together to alleviate the pain while I walk to the girls section. Yurol's saved a spot for me, so I stand next to her. It's too crowded as usual with all these bodies standing closely together, and all I can see is row upon row of girls in front of me. To the far right are rows of guys. Most of the faces are unfamiliar since I tend to keep to myself. Also, after my family's death it became hard to distinguish things that weren't important or that didn't stand out.

"Annie?" Yurol whispers, and she takes my hand in hers.

"I'm here." I respond, and give her a reassuring squeeze. Maybe I told her that to say I am mentally and physically here, but also I am here for her. It does seem a strange choice of words in retrospect.

Yurol doesn't notice this. "I can't bear to think of Kenin or Joa being reaped. Do you think it's unlikely, I mean, Minul was reaped so it should be someone else's family, right?"

Cashmere and Gloss weren't an exception, but I know this isn't the time to point that out. She needs me as her friend, but I also won't lie to her. "It's a possibility. Some guys have their names in there more than others, and Kenin and Joa have never signed up for tesserae. Plus they're younger, so their names are only in their four and two times."

This is what she's been telling herself, but I can tell hearing it from me relieves some of her worry. "Absolutely. The odds are more in their favor."

She doesn't say anything else, so I look to the stage. Revana Harr, District Four's escort, is standing in front of the microphone looking at her watch. By her expression, it's easy to see her excitement meaning the ceremony is about to begin. She's dark yellow with green polka dots and I find her entire look revolting. Black long nails, multiple bracelets made of cubes, the bottom of her dress looks like an upside down red triangle with her legs sticking out from the severed top, and orange hair is invaded by pink rectangle highlights.

Revana looks back at Finnick who is seated on her left, and he is giving her an adoring smile. Blushing, she fluffs her hair and faces forward again. His eyes follow her, then into the crowd, and I can tell he recognizes me and sees the disgust on my face. Nothing in his countenance or posture changes, and he keeps looking on at me with that _annoyingly stupid_ conceited smile. Like there's a jeering taunt behind his expression because of what I suggested at The Shack yesterday.

It seems to say, _You saw the way I looked at her? Does it disgust you that I would be intrigued by that Capitol woman who is one of my many lovers? I hope it does. I'm Finnick Odair and I can do whatever I please because I'm the sexy victor of the 65th Hunger Games._

Of course that's all made up in my head, but that's how I see his smile. Finnick must know this too because the smile turns into an outright grin ready to erupt with laughter. My face flushes and I glance to his left to look at Mags, the victor of the 13th Hunger Games. There's a mischievous toothless grin on Mags' face too as she looks at Finnick, and then looks at me. A burst of heat envelops my body, and I see the two begin to laugh which infuriates me because I'm the butt of their joke.

Almost thankfully, Revana speaks into the microphone, but I immediately feel bad for being grateful because it means the round of another Hunger Games and the start of twenty-three deaths. "Oh it is just wonderful to see all of your faces on this very _special_ day," Revana begins with her strange Capitol accent which seems to articulate every letter too profoundly with a twist to its enunciation, "as is customary, let us begin with this inspirational video."

President Snow, rebellion, Panem, the districts, blah blah blah... I can only hear clearly again when Revana's voice projects from the speakers, "May the odds be _ever _in your favor. Now, the moment we've all been waiting for. Ladies, you have the honor of first drawing." In red heels, Revana struts over to the bowl, thrusts her hand into the pile of papers, and withdraws her hand in a sharp motion. Back at the microphone, she announces in a prolonged voice, "Sally Walsh!"

A small squeak of shock is heard in the crowd. No doubt having future repercussions since the games have officially begun and this squeak of fear will be broadcasted all over Panem. In the front, some girls move around, and a thin blonde with brown eyes climbs the stairs of the platform with shaky legs. Sally goes over to Revana, and I can't help but look over at Finnick's face which has disappointment. It annoys me that he's more concerned about producing a winner and feels he got a weak tribute with no chance. Obviously he feels she'll be a waste of their time.

Sally is crying now, and Revana ignores this by looking away quickly and announcing, "Gentlemen, let's see who will be the lucky male tribute, shall we?" Strut, strut, strut, hand in, withdraw, microphone. "Kenin Denfeze."

Sharp pain explodes in my hand as Yurol crushes it to keep from crying out in horror. Her body begins to move away, but I discreetly yank her back in place to prevent the same incidence of her parents and Minul from occurring. Yurol's hand shakes as Kenin confidently walks to the stage, head held defiantly high, and stands next to Revana as still as a stone. He knows everyone is watching, and possessing nerves of steel could increase his chances of survival.

"Ladies and gentlemen of District Four, I present to you the honored tributes for the 69th Hunger Games." Revana announces.

Clapping erupts as is expected of us, most putting more energy into it because of their relief for not being picked. But a few of us stand where we are, hands to our sides because we are a part of the few whose lives have been affected by this drawing.

* * *

_Finnick POV_

Most of the other mentors prefer to meet their tributes on the train, but Mags and I prefer to be there for our tributes right after they say goodbye to their families. Revana disproves of this method since she rather wait in comfort on the train than wait in the Justice Building.

In a gratingly whiny voice, Revana's voice clips each syllable. "Waiting in here is unbearable. Wouldn't you both prefer to wait on the train?"

Mags is practically toothless causing her speech to be a bit garbled, and with her District Four accent, it's nearly impossible for anyone outside our district to understand her. I smile when she says, "Every year this annoying escort bickers and complains about the same redundant things. Look at her, she looks completely ridiculous. Like a shape which has an identity crisis."

I look at Revana who is pacing around completely unaware Mags is criticizing her. There are a lot of shapes in Revana's outfit. "I agree," I tell Mags, but now I have to pretend that I'm actually talking to Revana, "the train would be more comfortable. It'll only be a little longer before we can all go to the train and you can show me your room." Right when I give Revana a wink, the door to the boy tribute's room is pulled open by peacekeepers, and the girl from that dine-inn sees me winking.

Revana giggles, and puts a hand to my chest. "Wonderful Finnick. They're almost done, I'll get everything ready then."

The girl from the dine-inn, another girl, and a boy are forcefully ushered out of the room, but the other girl manages to say before the door is yanked shut, "I love you Kenin."

The girl begins to sob hysterically, and the young boy leads her out of the hall through the door which leads back to the town square. However, the girl from the dine-inn doesn't follow. She's staring at the floor, and Mags and I exchange the same questioning look which asks, _What is she doing?_

With her head still down, the dine-inn girl walks in our direction, and finally looks up at me when she's only a foot away. Normally I would still be angry at her for suggesting that I enjoyed the Hunger Games because no one except the other victors knew the price of winning—the act we had to put up, the responsibility of mentoring people who usually died, the things the Capitol demanded, the nightmares—but she was close enough to the boy tribute that she was saying goodbye, so my anger is gone.

Mags and I expect the girl to say something, but instead she looks at both of us for a few more seconds with deep green eyes, and abruptly turns to exit the building. I feel Mags' hand wrap around mine, "That's never happened before."

The sound of peacekeepers opening the girl tribute's door, family member's shrieking at the separation; it doesn't get easier with every year so I squeeze Mags' hand for my own comfort. "Her eyes said it all."

It's the plea of every family, what every mentor attempts to do, why Mags and I volunteer every year to be mentors even if it shreds our souls to pieces. Her eyes asked, _Keep him alive._

* * *

Long nails drag across my chest, and I kiss Revana's neck lightly. It's been a few hours since she showed the tributes their room, and met me in hers. She's the daughter of one of the gamemakers who'd put in a request with President Snow that my services be provided to her.

I began mentoring at fifteen, and understood that women were willing to sponsor my tributes if I flirted with them. One thing led to another during that first year, and I ended up sleeping with one of the women I'd been teasing. The next day an exorbitant amount of money from that woman was put into my tributes' funding. I knew then what I had to do. For the next week it was implied if a woman donated exponential funds, we would just so happen to sleep together after the donation was received.

In a way, I feel fortunate this was my initial plan because I cannot imagine the utter disgrace I would have felt when the Capitol forced me into prostitution at sixteen. It does frustrate me that at fifteen, I chose who I wanted to sleep with, but now I have the Capitol's cliental to satisfy. However, dwelling on the fact I am one of the Capitol's prostitutes, feeling any sort of emotion about it, will only drive me insane.

It's become something I accept only because it increases my tributes' chances at survival, and I want to know that I did everything within my power to keep them alive. I can give them a chance at life if living is what they really want. And at least, most tributes aren't attractive enough to be considered desirable so their lives will most likely go on without intervention from the Capitol.

Unlike Haymitch Abernathy. Well, he was punished because of his forcefield stunt, but the message is still the same. Disobey the Capitol and everyone you love will die. But once the Capitol demands you prostitute yourself for them, it's nearly impossible to say no. Cashmere and Gloss cannot. They have loved ones at risk.

Although I do not. My parents died when I was little, and I guess I had no other family because I spent the next decade living at a community home in horrible conditions. By the time I was fourteen, I couldn't stand living there anymore so I volunteered for the 65th Hunger Games. I figured, I would either die in the game or get to live in the Victor's Village.

The only reason I've agreed to prostitution despite the Capitol having nothing to hold against me is because President Snow agreed to a few conditions concerning my tributes. Only kids fifteen or older can be picked, that way each family has at least three years with a child who becomes of age to be reaped. The gamemakers are not allowed to activate stimulations which directly result in District Four tributes' death. Meaning my tributes can only die at the hands of other tributes or from dangers previously present in the arena such as poisonous snakes or a quicksand trap. Mags and I are allowed to send a note to our tributes once a day specifying one fact about the arena's hidden dangers. This note disintegrates within five minutes and is not aired on screen to cover up the fact District Four receives special treatment.

Besides, there is also the threat that if I don't comply my tributes will never have a chance at survival. But I was able to bargain. Not the life I expected after becoming a victor, but the ability to compromise helps with the prostitute situation and nightmares.

My thumb strokes Revana's cheek, and my insides twist in disagreement when I say, "You're so beautiful. The yellow and green look ravishing on you."

She giggles, and leans forward while lying on my chest. "Oh Fin-Fin, I wish we could be together. Just the two of us. Wouldn't life be so complete then?"

Very smoothly, I wrap my fingers around her hand on my chest, and give it an endearing squeeze. "You know there is nothing more I would like." I feign a groan in distress. "But you know my duty to President Snow."

"I know, and I'm grateful for it because without it I never would have met you. I just wish things were different." she sighs and rests her head against my chest. "It would be nice if we could lie this way forever."

Words are tiring me out, so I reach up with my other hand, and run my fingers through her straight hair. Repeating the motion over and over, hoping this false intimacy will keep her riveted in this ongoing silence.

As usual it's a successful strategy because finally Mags knocks on the door. "Oh lover boy dear, would you so kindly award us with your presence at the table? Leave the dreadful shape lady behind. Be my date for once."

I repress a smirk at Mags' teasing comments. The only true lady who I know and can count on. Revana can't see because her head is still against my chest, but I my face reflects annoyance when she moodily retorts, "Why does she always have to talk so much? No one can understand her. It sounds like pure rubbish."

I'm still running my fingers through her hair, even if all I want to do is have my body be as far away from her as possible. "Let's get dressed. We shouldn't keep the tributes waiting."

Right when I feel Revana's head begin to lift up, my face rearranges into a dreamy expression. She presses her lips to mine once more, and we get dressed.

We arrive at the table and the only open seats are next to Mags, and the girl tribute across the table. Of course Mags did this so I wouldn't have to sit next to Revana and endure an entire dinner of being felt up, and Revana is annoyed the layout "coincidently" ended up this way but she doesn't say anything as she takes a seat next to the girl since she never wants to sit next to Mags.

"About time you showed up." the boy tribute curtly remarks grabbing a plate of steamed chicken covered in a plum sauce.

Before I can say anything, Revana comes to my defense. "You will show nothing but respect to Finnick Odair. He is your mentor, and your best-"

Very kindly, I interrupt Revana. "It's alright, he's on edge. Most people are uneasy the first night." Mags and I know this is a lie because the boy is actually angry about me showing up late, but I don't want her belittling him and I can't be rude to her either.

The boy begins to push most of the chicken onto his plate, and this upsets Revana further. "Young man, that chicken is for _all_ of us, not just _you_."

Pointedly, he dumps all the chicken on his place, spits on it, then asks. "Did you still want some?"

Instantly, Revana stiffens, and tightens her face so rigidly it does look like she constipated. She releases a small huff of air, and mutters. "One can never expect any form of class from people like you."

Revana seems to forget that I am still from District Four even if I do spend more time in the Capitol than most mentors. But I just shake my head and begin piling my own plate with food. Mags has a bowl of mashed up fruits, and the girl's plate is empty. I give it a minute before coming to the conclusion she has no appetite.

This happens at some point every year, so I do what I always do. I put some bread, a bit of fruit, a piece of meat on her plate, and pour a glass of water. "You don't have to eat it all, just take a small amount from one of these things. It would be best if you got some food and water in your system. Even if it's one bite."

Weakly, the girl says, "Okay."

She nibbles on the bread while the boy smacks his mouth loudly, showing off the mashed up food and disgusting Revana to the point of losing her stomach. In horror, she stands up with a napkin pressed to her lips, and kind of screeches, "I have never encountered _such_ an intolerable boy. Goodnight to you all, except _you_." she emphasizes, throwing the napkin down in front of him.

The compartment door slams shut, and Mags praises the boy. "Very well done, I can't stand her either."

"I'm surprised you're not upset I've made your girlfriend mad." the boy directs at me.

Calmly, I swallow the spicy pork and take a sip of water. "She's not my girlfriend."

"Whatever." the boy says, and pushes aside the plate of partially eaten chicken. He takes some steamed shrimp drenched in garlic butter. "My main concern is knowing what I need to do to survive."

"Me too." the girl says quietly. "I mean, I don't have a chance but I can at least try."

She's not like previous tributes who I can make feel better with the flash of a smile, and I get the feeling the boy will have more resent for me if I do that. I speak honestly, "Everyone has a chance. Sometimes it's skill, intelligence, sponsors, or circumstances which crowns the victor. It's not only about strength." Although I remember seeing her come up to the stage and I knew then her chances were slim because most victors cannot be that physically or mentally weak.

This seems to lighten her mood. "Maybe if I'm fortunate, the right circumstances will allow my intelligence to succeed? I am rather smart."

Being smart, and mentally strong are different. And I can tell she lacks the latter. I'm not one to give up on my tributes no matter what though. Genuinely I smile at her, and I can tell the boy seems to warm up a bit when I say, "Definitely. Don't lose hope." I realize I don't know their names. "I'm sorry, what are your names?"

This puts me right back to being despised by the boy who scoffs, "Our own mentor doesn't even know our names. How typical of the famous Finnick Odair, above his own people."

Before the boy or girl can feel the tension which I would have hard time hiding at such a scornful comment considering all I do for the children of District Four and the tributes, Mags immediately intercepts the conversation. "Now now, don't be so hard on him." It's directed at me even if she's looking at the boy. "He may seem superficial and shallow," meaning the boy dislikes me because that is the appearance the Capitol has made me out to be, "but he's good underneath." There's just a scared child beneath this aggressive attitude.

My clenched fist releases into an open hand beneath the table, and I raise it to my glass casually. "I apologize. Things get so hectic it takes me awhile to find out the tributes' names."

"I'm Sally Walsh." the girl says.

"Sally Walsh," I say aloud so I'll remember, "nice to meet you although it would be better under different circumstances."

"Kenin Denfeze." the boy says.

"Kenin Denfeze," it hasn't been nice to meet him, "I'll do my best to teach you everything you need for survival. You too, of course, Sally. Although you will be spending more time with Mags."

Tomorrow are the opening ceremonies, and they'll spend all day being prepped for the tribute parade. Another game, another guess as to who will be victor. The thought begins to tire me, and to keep my sanity, I excuse myself for the night and head to my own bed for once. Sometimes the nightmares are better than reality.

* * *

_Annie POV_

"Yurol?" I quietly ask outside her door. She's been in there since yesterday, and the tribute parade is about to be aired. Surely she must want to see Kenin even if it's on the screen. To see that he's well for now. That he's still alive.

Sand shuffles on the ground behind me. Joa sadly says, "It's no use. Her door is locked. She won't let me in either."

I turn to face Joa, and I see nothing except the innocent thirteen year old boy he really is. The proud superior expression so commonly associated with him is gone. I've seen him like this when Minul was reaped. Both he and Kenin eventually got to the point where they could project another emotion other than sadness, unlike Yurol. Now their family has been devastated with another reaping.

I hold out my hand, and Joa takes it. Usually he furiously squirms out of hugs in embarrassment, so I know by him taking my hand that he is barely keeping it together. I lead him out of their hallway and into the common room with the screen. "Let's see how Kenin looks."

We sit on the pillows laid out on the floor, and Joa pushes himself into my side. "Annie?"

The screen is on and it's just jibber jabber right now. The commentators Claudius Templesmith and Caesar Flickerman are talking about trivial things in the Capitol, killing time before the tribute parade. "Yeah."

"Do you think Finnick will be able to keep Kenin alive?"

I think of how Finnick was winking at Revana. Flirting for pleasure when another Hunger Games began. It shouldn't surprise me honestly. Everyone sees the way he acts towards Capitol women during each game, and I hear the rumors about all the different women he's seen with at hotels in the Capitol and at the huts in our village. It is universally known that Finnick Odair beds women for a night before moving on to another, a trail of captivated but bewildered broken hearts in his wake. Why are they always surprised? He's never settled down. What makes them think they're so special?

Of course I knew Finnick Odair is fixated on sex, but now that Kenin is his tribute it shocks me that he would be focused on such a thing when two lives are in his hands.

But I also remember the way his face changed when I stared at him and Mags after we said goodbye to Kenin in the Justice Building. It was a look of acknowledgment as to what I couldn't say, and determination to keep him alive.

I nod my head, "I think Finnick will do all that he can. It does depend on what the gamemakers decide to do, and on Kenin himself. But I believe Kenin has a decent chance."

Quietly, Joa guiltily confesses. "I've been worried because Kenin is kind, you know. He's not very aggressive. I'm meaner than he is to other people. What if that hurts him?"

It's crossed my mind too. He did well in portraying fearless confidence when he walked to the stage after being reaped, but being broadcasted while in the presence of completely unfamiliar people during various situations like the parade, interview, and arena are each vastly different environments. His facade may not be strong enough to last under the Capitol's pressure.

The tribute parade has begun and the District One tributes are covered in sparkling stones. The girl's dress has a plunging neckline which dips below her navel ending a few inches after, the dress from her torso up is skimpily arranged to just barely cover her back and breasts, while the bottom is long and flowy. The dress has silver reflections from the thousands of stones, and each movement causes a different sparkle to flash. Everything about her is bright like her blonde hair and fierce blue eyes. The guy has dark brown hair and brown eyes and is wearing an unbuttoned tuxedo with the same stones covering the outside, and no shirt underneath to show off his built abdomen. Both of them have the same arrogant look which can only belong to career tributes.

"Their outfits are better than last year's tributes." Joa comments.

I agree with him mentally, and next is District Two. The boy and girl with black hair and brown eyes also have the career tributes' smirk on their face despite their costumes being a ghastly coat of nothing but shiny grey paint over their entire body with a few pieces of aluminum like sheets placed over certain areas of their lower half and the girl's breasts. Both Joa and I gasp in horror, and begin to laugh.

We wonder what is going through the stylists' heads sometimes. And District Three's costumes give us further reason to question whether the stylists are all there. The brunette girl has a giant lightbulb headpiece protruding from her hair, and it's plugged into an outlet hat on top of the blonde boy's head. His blonde hair shines brilliantly against the lightbulb, and their outfits flicker with different lights alluding to some sort of technology.

Next is District Four, and Joa squeezes my hand tightly in anticipation of seeing Kenin. Neither of us are prepared for what we see. It's not the blonde girl's beautiful blue dress which seems to continuously tumble over itself with tips of white at each twirl, reminiscent of the ocean's waves, which makes us stare in awe. It's not the unbuttoned long sleeved blue shirt, similar to the girl's dress with the white and twirls that Kenin is wearing either, which caused our jaws to drop.

It's the fierce scowl of triumph on his face which looks so natural and fitting that leaves us speechless. No one has seen this side of Kenin. Usually it's easy to tell when a tribute is trying too hard to appear brave, but to the rest of Panem who does not know this fifteen year old boy, Kenin looks like a true career who is ready to fight to the death. Picturing the young boy with the goofy grin and playful demeanor seems so long ago. He has been replaced by someone neither of us recognize.

Then, like that, the screen is showing District Five and electrical things I can't get my head around because it is still fixated of the image of Kenin. The screen has become a merged blur with muffled sounds, and I know it's on but it doesn't seem like it's there.

There's hope in Joa's voice. "I'm glad Yurol wasn't here to watch that. It would break her heart to see how different Kenin is now."

I know what he means. Kenin seems to have a chance at winning now that he's dropped the cheerful attitude and has adopted an intense persona that even to us seems well internalized.

* * *

_Finnick POV_

The chariots are pulling back up into the remake center, and District Four's chariot stops in front of us. Kenin jumps out landing with a loud _thud_ against the floor while Sally uses the stairs since it's a six foot drop. We can feel the eyes of the other districts on us, especially One and Two, but Kenin doesn't return the courtesy of acknowledging them. Either a very wise or dangerous move. It depends on who the tributes are.

Revana seems to have forgotten her spat with Kenin as she holds a hand to her chest and breathes, "My, you looked just fabulous on screen. I know we'll be able to get sponsors for you easily." She's never been tactful. Revana places a pitying hand on Sally, "You too dear, you looked wonderful. I'm sure we'll be able to convince people to help you out as well."

Sally's eyes flash with anger and she spits out, "Advice is what I need from a lady who can't decide what shape she wants to be!"

Sally storms off to the elevator causing a few heads to turn with questioning looks. I'm glad I have the deal with President Snow because no doubt Revana would tell her father to somehow kill Sally in the arena.

Mags smiles and laughs, "So even she noticed the dreadful shape contradiction."

"Oh shut up Mags!" Revana hisses loudly, so that everyone is looking our way. "No one can understand what you are saying."

Now Revana storms off, each shape bouncing with her strut. Kenin has a smirk on his face and asks, "Can she really not understand you?"

Mags shrugs innocently, "Is that so? I always assumed she thought I was senile and didn't pay attention to anything I said."

"Oh sweetheart, those of us who can understand you, know you're anything but that." a voice says from behind our chariot, and Haymitch Abernathy appears with his tributes following behind, the smell of spirits staining the air.

Kenin wrinkles his nose at the smell, but Mags and I are so used to it that she simply smiles and pats his hand. "You give me too much credit dear."

"You are the longest living victor with your mind still intact." Haymitch replies, pulling a flask out from his jacket, and taking a long drink. "Most of us, you know, turn to other things."

To make his point, Haymitch hold up his flasks and then nods in direction of District Six and the morphling mentors. They're sitting on the ground, staring at the lights, while their tributes seem to be fidgeting from withdrawals.

"Who are your tributes?" I ask politely since they're standing behind Haymitch like little children not fit for the games. And they are children, but at this point you either appear strong or get picked off at Cornucopia.

"Well don't stand behind me." Haymitch growls, and roughly sweeps them forward with his arm. They stumble a bit and look at Kenin.

"I'm Flora Davis." an orange haired girl with grey eyes softly says.

With a bit more confidence, but not much, a guy with brown hair and grey eyes too says, "I'm Vern Bindle."

"Fifteen and seventeen. Unlikely candidates." Haymitch says disappointedly, but his words carry heavy meaning to Mags and I. Districts Three, Four, Eight, and Twelve mentors have been a part of an uprising rebellion organization which has been in the making for decades. Painstakingly slow progress and utter discretion have been its success to avoiding detection.

We've all been on keeping an eye out for any potential victors who can unite the districts further. I tell him District Four's status, "Well we have potential victors who have a chance at going home and returning to the life they lead."

Haymitch understands that we feel our tributes may be victors, but nothing beyond that. Since he's put down his own tributes while I've made mine superior, and we all know the Capitol is listening here, Haymitch reacts how another mentor would to this apparent competitive statement. "We'll see, this boy, maybe. The girl, doubtful."

Mags can speak freely because outside of District Four, only Haymitch can understand her and that's because they've spent nearly two decades getting to know each other. Other people from the rebellion either have to ask him or I about what Mags says. She pretends to say something funny, "Have you talked to Six?"

Haymitch laughs, "You know how they are sweetheart, hard to get through to them when their brains are saturated in morphling."

Kenin laughs since he thinks it's a joke because he can tell talking to Six would be diffcult. Especially since the mentors, Link who is a thin middle aged woman, is on top of Tim's shoulders in attempt to now grab the lights hanging from the ceiling. Tim is older than Link, and he collapses under her weight, but her fall is cushioned by falling on top of the Six tributes.

The truth is, we've been trying to get them to join the rebellion, but their minds are usually so lost in a daze their response is drawing patterns. Mags knew them to be good people before they turned to morphling a few years after becoming victors, which is the reason we trusted them enough to ask despite their current state.

The boy Vern whispers to Flora, "How can he understand her? It sounds like nonsense."

Haymitch whips around, angry at Vern's observation. "Both of you go back to the Training Center."

They sulk off to the elevator, and Haymitch reaches for his flask again. "Well, nice as always Odair." Haymitch says sarcastically, although I know it's an act because he can't seem too friendly with all of the mentors, and he knows the lengths I'm going to for my tributes. I'm certain though if I was simply a part of the rebellion and nothing more, he would view me as a vain shallow pretty boy. "See you later sweetheart." He tells Mags. And then Haymitch greets Chaff with an obnoxious drunken yell, and Chaff reciprocates by returning a just as drunken yell.

Mags and I can both feel, the 69th Hunger Games is not the year for the victor we've been looking for. I take her arm in mine, and we all head back to the Training Center.


	3. Chapter 3: 69th Hunger Games Part 2

**Chapter Three: 69th Hunger Games Part 2**

_Finnick POV_

Behind the slanted one way mirror in the Training Center near the top of the ceiling which the tributes don't know about, Haymitch is passed out in his seat completely drunk, having given up on his tributes entirely. It gets me so angry at times that he has such a disregard for tributes not deemed worth his time, but I guess after his entire family and girl were murdered there is only so much he can bring himself to care about.

Link and Tim were given the outfits from District Three, and are sitting on the floor staring at the flashing lights, pressing their fingers against empty spaces and making patterns. They occasionally squeal with laughter, clapping their hands together loudly.

Next to Mags and I are Beetee and Wiress, the District Three mentors. They both have black hair and ashen skin, but other than that seem quite opposite although they do work well together as a pair. Beetee peers over the glasses which don't quite fit his face, and tuts disapprovingly at his girl tribute. "No, no Ravindir," his finger twitches as he taps the arm of his chair, "don't play with the weapons, we all know you can't use them." He sighs.

Softly Wiress agrees, "She needs to get the snare..."

"Since the only way she'll be able to kill anyone is by trapping them." Beetee finishes. "Look at her, she's too weak to fend for herself."

Wiress inhales sharply, "If she uses..."

This time Wiress doesn't need Beetee to finish her sentence. All the mentors are watching Ravindir, most with a distasteful yet amused smile. Even the tributes are watching her, although Ravindir made the grave mistake of being unaware of their watchful eyes. She's picked up a spear, clearly struggling under the weight already, and feebly attempts to throw it at the target. It goes maybe five feet at most, but clatters uselessly against the ground.

The speakers connected to the training room allow us to hear the burst of laughter coming from nearly all the tributes. Kenin is frowning, and Sally has a tiny smile playing at her lips. Only now realizing that everyone was watching her, Ravindir begins to shake and promptly begins rubbing her eyes furiously to get rid of tears.

"We all know who's going to be one of the several to die at Cornucopia." Gloss tauntingly hollers across the room and Cashmere joins in on his laughter.

"There's nothing we can do..." Wiress sadly says.

Beetee pats her hand, "To save her. I know. We'll still try to train her while we can."

This seems to make Wiress feel better, but she and Beetee don't say anything else.

Mags nudges my arm, directing my attention to Sally. "Watch her head, every few seconds she slightly tilts it down to her left. My eyes aren't what they used to be, but I can see something shiny on the table."

I notice this quirk Mags has observed, and I see a small knife propped against a piece of rope. "She's using it as a mirror to make sure no one comes up behind her and sees whatever she's doing."

Sally is at the painting station, stroking a thin paintbrush's tip in various directions, probably writing. There's an intense look of concentration on her face, and I can tell she has a plan in mind. Sally's eyes glance to the knife, and she sees Kenin approaching her with fifteen feet between them. Immediately the intensity is replaced by a soft expression as she grabs a can of paint, dumps it only across the surface in front of her since her body hid what she was doing from the other tributes, and smears out whatever she was creating. Then she pretends as if she'd been playing with the paint the whole time.

"What are you up to?" Kenin asks.

Sally's voice sounds frustrated. "I don't know, I'm so nervous and playing with paint usually calms my nerves. But it's not doing much for helping my survival is it?"

"Playing with paint?" Kenin repeats, and he laughs almost mockingly, "No, it's not."

Then, as if he's disgusted for knowing that his tribute partner is pathetic, Kenin walks away. What he can't see is that Sally now has a smirk on her face. The joke on him, despite him thinking otherwise.

I whisper to Mags since the other mentors haven't found this exchange to be worthy. "I think our little Sally might be up to something worth taking note of."

Mags nods in agreement. "Since I've gotten to know her these past few days, she is an extremely clever girl. Like's to play mind games with people."

"How so?"

Mags peers over my shoulder and sees that Haymitch is still sleeping, so she can speak freely since I'm the only one in the room who can understand her. "Sally has an eye for discovering people's weaknesses psychologically, and exposing them to lessen the person's confidence. But she does it in such an inconspicuous way that the person doesn't realize she knows their weakness."

"Like her remark about Revana's shapes?" I ask, catching on.

"Exactly, that wasn't the beginning though. Remember the night on the train when she wouldn't eat, I think that was simply to give the impression she was weak. A smirk like that means there's something serious going on." Mags elaborates, "I thought it was strange Sally spends most of the time at the painting station, and when she does go around the room, it seems like she's observing people at a distance before she socializes with them."

Now that the paint has covered whatever she was drawing, we both see Sally talking to the tributes from Six. They're not talking about anything important, but I do notice she seems strangely fidgety. Anxiously pulling at her uniform, and nervously twisting her hair. I've never seen her like this.

Mags knows I see this. "You noticed it now? How she can't seem to keep still?"

"Right." It doesn't make sense.

"By her displaying these nervous twitches, it's going to fuel the anxiety the Six tributes already feel from their withdrawals. It's driving them further on edge."

And then I see it. Their eyes are wide, skin a sickly color, and they too are squirming in discomfort. Rapidly tapping their fingers together and pulling at their uniform more frequently every time Sally irritably rubs the side of her temple or scratches her throat.

She begins to talk about how nice it would be the arena had a fountain which overflowed with morphling. The way it would course through their blood and make them feel like they could fly. Or how maybe it would rain little tablets of the drug so they could gather it for whenever it was needed. Surely such a luxury would occur in arena. Then, they could get all the morphling they needed and rally up together so that no one would ever run out of the drug and there would always be enough for all of them.

I can visibly see the belief in their eyes as they listen to her fantasy, and with each word, she is leading them to believe that as soon as they enter the arena, there will be a large supply of morphling waiting for all of them. The suddenly calmed and relaxed states of the Six tributes now says they believe Sally.

Chaff calls out to me, "Hey Finnick, didn't know your tribute was an addict! We know who else is going to be one of the several to die at Cornucopia."

But Mags and I simply smile because we understand what Sally is doing. And she is also fooling the other mentors into underestimating her. An hour later though, I begin to wonder who the joke is really on.

Kenin is talking to Districts One and Two, convincing them to let Sally join the career pack. "We're the districts who always join together, and she is from District Four."

"So what?" Dazzle from One snaps, her blonde hair whipping around her face as she dramatically moves her body. "That weakling suits partnering up with that Ravindir girl."

Astor, the boy from Two agrees. "Let's just kill her during the initial bloodbath."

"If you want, fine." Kenin says, but he adds. "She is smart, you know. She'll know what plants and animals are safe to eat, how to cook them. We could make her our slave. There's no way she's hoping to survive past the first day, so what if we allow her to live until the end as long as she helps us survive and we promise to kill her quickly. We won't give her any weapons or anything."

The careers consider this because District Four is the only district in the pack that has greater knowledge about survival over fighting skills which One and Two mainly train for.

Heria, last year's victor, remarks with a smile. "Your boy is rather cruel isn't he?"

I'm not sure if she finds this comment ironic considering her methods of killing the other tributes last year, but I simply shrug and say in a cocky voice. "Simply the makings of a victor. Like his mentor."

Heria lets out a throaty chuckle, and it reminds of the moment when she watched the boy covered in arrows sink to the bottom of the quicksand. The silence in the mentoring room during that game was awful. No one expected another tribute to go to those extremes. Haymitch was a mess. Link and Tim cowered in the corner absolutely terrified. The mentors from Ten, Hebert and Nadia wept until the boy with the roped collared died. Beetee began to twitch uncontrollably and Wiress kept repeating 'hit artery, hit artery' because Heria avoided shooting any major arteries or veins which would result in the arrow boy's swift death. Kimp and Talia, the mentors from Nine were angry Heria killed both their tributes right away by stabbing them both quickly in the heart one after the other, which is why they cast her scornful looks every once in awhile. Chaff's face grew sickened from drinking all morning and then seeing his girl tribute cut in half at the torso when Heria swung her sword. And Mags and I held each other's hand to suppress the horror of seeing Heria basically bathe in Minul's blood.

Heria looks out the one-way mirror when Astor finally accepts, "That sounds reasonable to me."

The boy from One, Rueben, concurs. "We wouldn't have to worry about supplies. She's too weak to dare take off because if we found her again she would die an agonizing death. And in the end, she's not even an opponent worth worrying about. She'll go down without a fight."

Annoyed, but convinced this is a wise strategy, Dazzle rolls her eyes. "Fine, go tell the little baby she can join us."

Staryl, the girl from Two laughs at Dazzle's comments, and Kenin leaves to tell Sally the news. She's at the plant station, turning different nuts and berries between her fingers, and pretends to flinch in surprise when Kenin approaches her. "Good news Sally."

"What?" she asks, her voice shaky.

"I got One and Two to let you join the careers."

In delight, she gives him a hug which he quickly shrugs out of. "Oh thank you. I've been wondering if I was going to be allowed in with the careers, but you worked it out for me. I knew you would have my back since we're from the same district. We'll stick together right Kenin?"

This makes Kenin uncomfortable, but he replies. "Right. We have to have each other's back." he leaves her, and goes over to the rope station.

By Sally mentioning the fact they're from the same district not only gives him a guilt trip, but brings up the unofficial code that killing a tribute from your own district is greatly frowned upon and will most likely result in being outcasted. She really does know how to toy with a person's mind.

Sally returns to her plants, and I can still see her grinning. For the next hour, Kenin practices untying a rope and tying it. Each time with increasing speed. It's not a big piece of rope either. Only large enough to fit on his wrist like a bracelet. But he keeps practicing the same move over and over. Untie and tie. Untie and tie. Untie and tie. I have to wonder what he's up to.

* * *

_Annie POV_

Except to use the bathroom, Yurol still hasn't come out of her room for the past five days. Joa and I have been leaving food and water outside her room, and she only takes it inside when we're not there to catch her with the door unlocked. So Joa has come to The Shack with me since Yurol won't eat or drink while we're in their hut.

It's crowded in here, and every person is watching the interview playing on the screen attached to the wall that separates the dining area from the kitchen. Caesar Flickerman in his blue suit with yellow hair, lips, and eyelids, is talking to Ravindir, a girl from District Three.

He's grasping her hand, and asks in a concerned voice. "So only twelve years old, how does it feel to be the youngest tribute this year?"

Ravindir softly replies, "It would have been nice to have someone else my age or a year older. Everyone else is three years older or more."

Caesar nods his head in understanding. "You are very brave young girl, is she not?" he calls to the audience who answers in claps and cheers. "We all see your courage Ravindir. That will not be forgotten in the arena." more cheering. He stands up, still holding her hand, leading Ravindir to follow his action. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the courageous Ravindir Teffinie of District Three!"

It'll be a few minutes before Kenin will be interviewed, so I go around the floor and pour water into people's cups. Everyone has ordered and received their food, most of it only partially eaten since all of us are caught up in watching the interviews. Again that bubbled safety zone has enveloped me, that it takes Vonir several attempts of saying my name before I realize he's calling me.

"Annie." he says, waving me over.

He's by himself this time, and I feel more comfortable talking with him than when Lionel and especially Derek are there. "Sorry, I spaced out."

He waves off my apology. "How is Yurol handling things?"

Since no one needs my attention right now, I take a seat across Vonir, setting the pitcher on the table. "She's not. It's been almost a week and neither Joa or I have seen her since Kenin's reaping. He needs to win."

"Finnick is a good mentor, Kenin has a better shot than most of the tributes. Especially if he joins the careers."

Initially I did have faith in Finnick. But with the countless broadcasts of him being seen at parties and joined at the arm with numerous Capitol women throughout this entire ordeal, I'm beginning to doubt him. "If he joins the careers, yes. But how can Finnick possibly be helping when all he does is sleep around and party? It's like all he cares about is the Capitol's social life. I can't stand it. Does he not know that Kenin's life is in his hands!" My voice is rising in hysteria because I have been keeping this bottled up for so long.

"Annie," Vonir says firmly, "breathe."

A sob catches in my throat and I cover my mouth, grateful nobody else has noticed this near panic attack. I breathe in several times and defeatedly ask. "How can he not care?"

Vonir takes my hand, and it's not in a too touchy way how Derek can be, but it's to simply let me know he's here for me. "Finnick does care. It may not seem like it, but he does in his own way. And his way is based on the intentions to keep every tribute alive for as long as possible."

I'm about to ask what Vonir means, but the moment I hear Kenin's name announced, everything fades away and all I can do is focus on his face, black hair, and blue eyes. So alike to Joa.

Caesar is standing up, his left arm extended and welcoming Kenin. "Kenin Denfeze!" the crowd cheers loudly, "Well Kenin, your district partner seems like quite an intelligent young woman."

In my mind I think, _she's only a child_. But Kenin goes along with Caesar, "She certainly is. Doesn't seem quite fair that she has both brains and looks while I only have the looks."

Uproarious laughter erupts among the crowd, and Caesar chuckles heartily. "Ah yes, tributes of none other than Finnick Odair." The mention of Finnick's name sets the crowd into a frenzy of adoring wails and cheers. They've cheered with more enthusiasm for him than any of the tributes who've been interviewed tonight. "Now Kenin, I asked Sally this, but I have _got_ to ask you this too. What is it like to be mentored by Finnick?" More hysterical screams.

Kenin tightens his lips in a "thoughtful" expression, but only Joa and I can detect the rage beneath. "Very informative. Finnick won the 65th Hunger Games at such a young age, you can only imagine how much more knowledge he has acquired in these past four years. He's been extremely helpful. I suspect I could not be in better hands than Finnick and Mags."

The audience is loving Kenin's appraisal of Finnick, and Caesar moves on. "In good hands you are. Well, I'm sure your looks aren't the only thing you've got going for you. Not with a score of nine, am I right?"

"You got me." Kenin playfully says throwing his hands up, and this is the side both Joa and I can recognize. "I used to go fishing with my younger brother a lot, so I'm alright with a spear."

"Alright!" Caesar exclaims, and gives Kenin a jokingly suspicious look, "I'm certain you're much better than just _alright_. No need to be so modest, not with a score of nine!"

The crowd laughs and agrees. But I catch Joa looking at me because I'm wondering the same thing as him. How did Kenin get a nine? Sure he looked like a career during the opening ceremonies, so much that it shocked Joa and I. That doesn't deny the fact though that Kenin actually is _just_ alright with a spear. Joa always won when they had fishing competitions.

Whatever he did, Caesar has another topic in mind. "So you fish with your younger brother?"

"Yes." Kenin replies.

"Do you have any other siblings?"

Kenin's face falters by a fraction. "I do. My older sister. And my older brother."

"Yes, I remember him." Caesar says with a sad smile. "He was here last year, wasn't he?"

"He was." Kenin confirms. Possibly to hide any emotion, Kenin says very matter of factly. "He was sick when he was reaped, so he died in the initial bloodbath at the Cornucopia."

Caesar nods. "His name was Minul. Such a kindhearted young man. It must be hard on your family for another son and brother to have been reaped."

"Well my parents are dead, so it would only be hard on my siblings. But they don't need to worry because I am going to win and come back home to them. They've loss one brother, I won't let them lose another one."

Now Caesar is beaming. "That's the attitude! Such unfortunate chances of drawing two siblings in two consecutive years, but Gloss and Cashmere made it home. And many will be rooting for you to go back home to your siblings!" The crowd cheers in agreement. "Ladies and gentlemen, the brother of last year's tribute Minul, Kenin Denfeze of District Four!"

* * *

_Finnick POV_

Any moment Kenin will be returning to the backstage, and my palms are sweating. Very quietly, I ask Mags. "Did you know Minul was his brother?"

She shakes her head. "His siblings had their heads down the whole time during the Victory Tour, and he asked us not to visit them. I thought the last name sounded familiar but you know it's better when we know less about them."

"Did you talk to him?"

"Not much. Only casual dinner conversation. He was very sick." Mags sighs. "Did you talk to him?"

"I did. Once. On this very night a year ago." I see Kenin enter the hallway. "How did I not know he was Minul's brother?"

"We both didn't. Don't beat yourself up." Mags reminds me.

Kenin has a stoic expression on his face, but he asks softly so none of the other tributes can hear him, "Can we go back to our floor?"

Mags and I nod, and I announce as if it's my idea. "Well, we don't need to waste our time here anymore. Let's head back."

Right when we're about to exit, Heria calls out to me. "Don't say you're leaving, are you Finnick?"

We're forced to turn around, and I have an amused smile on my face. "Missing me already, are you Heria?"

"Perhaps." she replies. She has on a stunning skin tight black dress that looks ripped on the sides, ends high on her toned thighs, and the top swirls around her breasts curling outwards to her sides, leaving a very bare cleavage. This outfit can only mean one thing. "You are coming to the party tonight?"

"Wouldn't miss it for anything." I reply. "I need to change of course. Into something more easily," I curl my lips in and lick them, "accessible for company."

Heria laughs, "See you then, Odair."

It's not until we're out of the elevator and in our suite with the doors locked behind us, when Kenin turns around and punches me in the jaw. I let him get in one more because I feel like I deserve it, but I sidestep his third punch. "You're despicable _Mr. Finnick Odair_!" He snarls. "All you care about is sex!"

Mags has come between us at this point because she knows he won't be aggressive to an elderly lady. We both know he's not the type. Gently, Mags tells Sally. "Dear, I think it's best if you go to your room."

Frightened by the confrontation, Sally leaves quickly and the Avoxes remain unnoticed in the various hallways that lead out of this entrance room.

Kenin is yelling, "How do you stand yourself! How do you look in the mirror every day and like what you see! You are the very epitome of nothing more than a product of the Capitol! District Four should be ashamed of you!"

I don't refute any of these accusation because I agree with with Kenin. But I can't say who is more shocked, him or me, when Mags' arm is _suddenly_ flying up and her hand slaps Kenin so hard his face gives a loud _smack_ that echoes in the large empty rooms.

Despite this burst of anger on my defense, Mags then calmly takes a stunned Kenin's hand in hers, and leads him to his room. My mind is still replaying what he said, _stand yourself, look in the mirror, very epitome, District Four should be ashamed of you_. _Ashamed of you. Ashamed. You._

Yes, they should. I killed all those other children. Caught them in my net. Speared them like fish with my trident. Watched their blood soak the ground. Watched the life seep out of their eyes until I only had cold dead eyes staring at me. Lifeless eyes which accused me of being their murderer. All for the Capitol's enjoyment. And I went along with it. Did nothing to stop it. But killed tribute after tribute until no one was left but me. And now, I sleep with their women. Sometimes for pleasure. Just to feel another's skin pressed against mine because it gets so lonely. Sometimes because the Capitol tells me who to bed. And I get rewarded. Money from sponsors. Unfair advantages for my tributes in the arena. At the expense of the other districts' children.

I am a murderer and despicable person in every imaginable aspect. I'm not even a person, not even human. I am someone who gets other people killed. Yes, they should be ashamed.

I'm caught up in this endless cycle of going over every reason as to why my life is a disgrace, that I don't notice the pain in my jaw until an Avox holds a bag of ice in front of my face. Suddenly, I can feel the strain and ache from being punched and I snap out of the self loathing. I take the bag, "Thanks."

The black haired boy does not nod, but turns away with sad grey eyes. A sigh gets stuck in my chest because I know that while some of that sadness is for himself, there is also some for me. Because despite the luxury I appear to have, we're both still slaves of the Capitol. He, a tongueless mute forced to cater. I, a prostitute who sends children to their death.

I press the bag to my jaw and take a seat at the dining table. A ceiling high window which pans across the entire entrance room allows me to see the dark sky and bright lights of the city. It's beautiful in its own way, but not the kind of beauty one wants to see when they may have only a few days left. This kind of beauty is too structured and enclosing that it ends up feeling like a cage. Which it is. Only it's hard to put a finger on that feeling until it's been pointed out or realized.

At least I'm not confined to the TrainingCenter. Tonight at the party, I'll spend time with Lydia, Sorien, and Tansy. Not my top choices from the list but definitely not at the bottom. Maybe after the official party, I can spend time with Heria. She's a beautiful face and amazing body, it should help me to overlook the way she killed all those tributes. Most of us don't hold the past against victors, but sometimes it's hard to forget.

"Finnick?"

I turn my head to the left, and see Kenin standing in the hallway. The look of grief on his face lets me know that Mags has told him about the life of victors. "She told you, did she?"

"Well, not everything." He takes a step forward accepting my question as an invitation to sit at the dining table. "Mags said you talked to Minul."

"Once. In these very seats." I tell him. I look back out the window. "He really was a nice, young man."

"Yeah," Kenin agrees, and I can hear the smile in his voice while he remembers the brother he loss, "Minul really was." He too looks out the window, and comments on the lights. "It feels like I'm still on the stage with those bright lights which hid the audience. I hate it."

The spite in his voice is so unlike what I heard in Minul's voice, and I feel Kenin has a chance at winning also unlike his brother. "Try not to let your mind fixate on things here. Thinking of home may make you sadder, but it's better than having the Capitol potentially be your last thoughts."

"In case I die?" he asks.

"In case you die." I repeat, acknowledging the fact it's a possibility.

Kenin taps his fingers on the wooden table. "I always wondered why you or Mags never came to our house."

"She told you, Minul asked us not to?"

"Yeah." but he presses. "Would you both had come if he didn't ask that?"

"I'm sure Mags would have. At least once." I face him again, and he's earnestly waiting for my answer. "I don't think I would have. I've never done it before. And what good is it for the families to see the one they'll inevitably blame for their child's death?"

"Maybe some would believe you tried though."

I see the relevance of this statement in his eyes. "Would you have?"

Kenin laughs a guilty bitter scoff. "The famous Finnick Odair helping a weak sickly boy who had absolutely no chance of winning? No, I wouldn't have." His face softens and he shakes his head. "But now that I know what you do for the Capitol, to give our district more time with loved ones and advantages in the arena, it's given me more insight." Kenin is not entirely convinced, "You did try, right?"

"I tried to try." It sounds strange, so I explain. "I told him I would do all I could to help him survive, he just had to get away from the Cornucopia. There's not much any mentor can do for their tributes who stay for the initial bloodbath."

"But he stayed." Kenin says aloud, remembering the scene of Minul peacefully walking towards the weapons until Heria speared him. "I thought he was calm because he joined the careers. I blamed you for letting them turn on him."

"When I asked him to try, he told me, 'I wouldn't torment my siblings with a slow awaiting death.' I thought he meant he would try to finish the games quickly, he would try to go back home to you guys since you all would be awaiting his death." I sigh in frustration. "As his mentor, I should have known he meant he would get himself killed quickly."

It sincerely shocks me when Kenin says forgivingly, "You couldn't have known. If anything, that sounds like Minul. We all knew he wouldn't make it, and he knew by trying it would only raise our hopes. And when he died, we would be more devastated than if he died at the Cornucopia like he did." Kenin breathes in. "I'm glad he died there. He could have been the boy from Ten or worse. He didn't suffer much."

Minul has been the only tribute I've ever seen, who accepted death so naturally and without worry. In the moments before he was killed, it was clear he knew it was coming, and there was no fear in his eyes. I confess, "I didn't know he was your brother until the interview."

Kenin lightly laughs, "I knew you were his mentor. That's why I despised you." I remember his anger towards me on the train, so it wasn't just about me showing up to dinner late. He runs a hand through his black hair. "Everything is just a show. That you choose to display for the sake of District Four. You sacrifice letting people know that you're actually a decent guy in order to help us. No one from Four except you and Mags, well me too now, knows about this. You'll never be thanked for it."

I shrug. "If you become victor, which I'll be hoping for, by killing a lot of people, which I don't hope will happen, but if that were to happen, then you will see that it'll always feel like no matter the amount of good you do, it'll always be outweighed by the blood on your hands."

"If I were to win by those means, maybe my perspective will change to agree with you." Kenin admits. "But you have to realize your perception has been tainted by the Capitol's cruelty. And as an outside party from the group of victors, whose view has not been twisted yet, I think you should forgive yourself. We're all just trying to survive. Under different circumstances, most of the victors probably wouldn't have turned out to be who they became. Yourself included."

I'm not sure what to say to this because it's challenging a mentality already years in the making, but a part of me feels like I should believe what Kenin is telling me. For now, the most I can say is, "I'll try."

"Good." Kenin gets up to leave. "I should attempt to sleep. The big day is tomorrow."

"Get well rested. You'll need it." As Kenin is walking away, I tell him. "Minul really loved you all. I could tell by the way he talked about you guys."

"I know he did." Kenin smiles sadly. "He was a good brother."

"Do you want to know what he said?"

"No." Kenin says to my surprise. "You can tell me after I win." He's about to turn back around to head to his room, but he stops halfway and says. "Thank you Finnick. I may end up being the only non-victor who knows what you're sacrificing. I just thought you should know that I'm grateful because no one else can ever thank you for what you're doing."

A lump has formed in my throat so all I can do is slowly nod. Kenin seems to know I'm incapable of speaking now, and he gives a nod before I hear his bedroom door close. Every part of me feels drained. So tired suddenly. This is why I've grown used to the ladies' man image with an upbeat and conceited personality. It keeps out feeling true emotions. It distracts my mind. And this is why I despise myself. Because it is just the distraction I need.

With no self-worth and dignity, I leave the Training Center and go to the party.


	4. Chapter 4: 69th Hunger Games Part 3

**I would just like to say thanks to all the readers who have continued to read all the chapters, and sorry this 4th one took me awhile. But it's long so hope you enjoy it! I had fun writing it =]**

* * *

**Chapter Four: 69th Hunger Games Part 3**

_Annie POV_

Nineteen. Eighteen. Seventeen. Sixteen. Fifteen. Fourteen. Thirteen. Twelve.

"He had to have joined the careers. He must have." Joa says, but I know he's looking for confirmation from me.

"I hope so." I say with Joa's hand in mine. "It's Minul's best chance. Kenin's! Kenin's best chance." This reminds me too much of Minul's game. Different arena, different year. Still the Hunger Games.

Two. One. The gong.

There are three mountains surrounding a suspended Cornucopia which is held up by eight wooden bridges attached to each mountain. All the platforms are placed near Cornucopia, about a quarter of the bridge's length away. Several of the tributes are running towards the mountain to which their bridge is connected to, while the others run towards the Cornucopia for the impending bloodbath. Kenin included.

He is among the first people to get there, and when the tributes from One and Two don't attack him, we know he's in with the careers. Joa's hand relaxes in relief. But we feel the horror of watching the scene playing out.

The girl, Dazzle, has a mace in her right hand, and she swings it into Terry's face, a boy from Five. He immediately crumples to the ground, and his arm weakly tries to raise. You can tell he's in terrible pain, and she begins bludgeoning his body until there's a red mess of meat left. No longer visibly a human. She's laughing, enjoying the blood-high, and runs a red hand through her blonde hair, staining various sections a bright red.

Astor, a boy from Two, is wielding a machete which he uses to cut the arm off of Polly from district Six. She hadn't moved from her platform, she just stood there gazing down at the lake below the bridges. In some sort of daze like the water was more than just water. Now her mouth opens into an earsplitting scream, and she flails her dismembered limb, flinging blood into Astor's face momentarily blinding him. There's this crazed rage in her eyes, and while a caught off guard Astor is wiping blood from his eyes, Polly rips the machete out of his hand. In fury, she begins to hack away and then kicks him off her bridge. She's still screaming, and takes off towards the mountain covered in trees with the machete waving around.

Not surprisingly, the boy from Seven, Wen, has a few throwing axes tucked into his belt, along with one in each hand. He throws an axe into the side of Vern's head, who is from District Twelve. The sword in Vern's hand clatters to the floor, and his body drops to the ground. Wen runs pass Vern, ripping the axe free where it makes an awful _squelching_ sound. Now that he has the weapons he wanted and a backpack, Wen gets on to the closest bridge which also has the boy from Six, Fred. Like Polly, Fred is just staring at the lake, his hand outstretched as if trying to grasp it. Wen tucks the two axes in his hands, into his belt with the other ones, and when he reaches Fred, he grabs both of Fred's legs and throws him over. Fred plummets down, his body hitting the water below with a horrible sound of concrete breaking. The last the camera shows of Wen is him running towards the mountain with trees.

The boy and girl from Eight, Reyn and Gerta, are the only other tributes outside of the careers who made it to Cornucopia and escaped unharmed. They ran towards the mountain covered in a few caves with the rest of the landscape covered in thick bushes and grass taller than our homes.

During this time, Rueben from One has cut down four bridges, killing Reese, Kennley, Mark, and Stephanie from Five, Three, Nine, and Seven. He's about to cut down the fifth bridge which leads to a mountain covered in rocks, when Kenin stops him. The girl Ravindir who is on this bridge, is able to cover the last twenty feet between her and the rocky mountain. Before Rueben attacks Kenin, he quickly explains, "Look, you cut down four bridges from the same mountain. The Cornucopia won't be suspended for much longer if you cut down a fifth. It's already a bit unsteady."

And he's right because you can see the Cornucopia slightly bouncing up and down in the wind. Rueben lowers his sword, and simply says to avoid the fact he nearly killed them all. "Good eye."

They walk over to the mouth of Cornucopia where Dazzle and Staryl are picking through the various weapons, and counting the few backpacks. Sally is peering over the side, seeing if it's safe to join. Staryl sees her and impatiently snaps, "Get over here! Tell us how much food we have."

Sally scurries over there, and begins to look through the backpacks. While Kenin and Rueben look over the weapons they weren't able to see until now, Dazzle and Staryl talk about their kills. Dazzle talks about Terry and nods her head in the direction of the red heap on the floor. And Staryl strokes her flail like a beloved pet, going over how she caught Teresa, the girl from Eleven, attempting to steal a backpack. Like a lovestruck teenager, she giggles upon recalling how terrified Teresa had been when she saw Staryl approaching. Staryl struck Teresa several times before throwing her body over the side. Everyone is so caught up in weapons or their kills, none of them notice Sally. All the backpacks are open, and she makes sure no one is looking before she throws a handful of food over the bridges. It's completely insane because food can be a rarity in the Hunger Games, and she's wasting it for no apparent reason. Or so it seems until Sally has finished tossing food and tells the careers, "They didn't give much food in the packs. Mainly tools like rope, matches, canteens, some clips, rainproof jackets, and one first aid kit."

Tauntingly, Dazzle waves her blood covered mace in front of Sally's face. "Guess it was a good thing we decided to let you join us after all. You're gonna be getting all of our food since you know what's edible and how to cook."

Like a scared child, Sally quickly agrees. "Of course, I know what type of nuts, plants, fruits, berries-"

"Shut up!" Staryl yells. "You are _so_ annoying. Argh. Just gather the food, you don't have to tell us about it. That's your job." She looks around. "Where's Astor?"

"Guess he died." Rueben says matter of factly.

As if on the cue. The cannons sound. _Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom._

"Nine." Kenin counts. "Not bad for the first hour."

Rueben laughs. "They'll be more to come shortly. This is only the initial bloodbath."

They're staying at the Cornucopia for now, deciding on what weapons to take with them. And despite the fact nine people are dead, despite Kenin's remark appearing to be rather heartless, I'm overwhelmed with joy. He survived the bloodbath. He is still alive. Alive is all we want.

Joa's eyes are wide. "Kenin made it. He made it. There's a chance." He can't bring himself to finish the sentence because of what happened with Minul, but hope has been sown in his heart. And that's all he needs.

I give his hand a squeeze, and he doesn't let go despite us being in public at The Shack. "Yes, he has a chance."

* * *

_Finnick POV_

I can't help but let out a sigh now that the initial bloodbath has finished. Both our tributes are still alive. Sally apparently up to something neither Mags or I anticipated because it's insanity to waste food so carelessly during the games. That is of course unless she has a plan. All those hours at the paint station must have been for something. And Kenin. He's alive. The public screens didn't show it because it would be considered too boring for entertainment, but Kenin didn't actually participate in the bloodbath. He grabbed a weapon when the other careers got there, but he stayed back and lingered at the mouth, pretending to guard it. That's how Wen got the axes. Kenin saw him taking them, but didn't do anything. And Wen realized Kenin wasn't going to do anything, so maybe out of gratitude, he took off in the other direction instead of slaying Kenin and then leaving.

The mentors from Five have left since both their tributes died, and Chaff and Haymitch are having a drunken conversation about how their tributes were brainless because they should have headed to the mountains instead. Blight from Seven is clearly not losing much sleep over the death of his girl tribute since Wen seems to be the more promising victor. And despite having a rather ruthless tribute left, Heria is outraged that Astor was killed by the girl morphling from Six.

The mentors from One, Eight, Ten and including Mags and I are the only ones with both our tributes still alive. Gloss and Cashmere boast about their tributes' killings, Woof and Cecelia are glad their tributes made it to Cornucopia and to the mountains, and Herbert and Nadia simply sit in their seats, possibly anticipating a gruesome death like their boy tribute last year.

I lean back in my seat closing my eyes, and stretch my arms back. That's when I feel feminine fingers running over my forearms and I know who it is because I just left their company this morning. Her fingers slip between mine, and she bends down placing her head on my shoulder, whispering into my ear, "Help me out with some recently acquired stress?"

Mags snickers. "You dirty boy."

I cover a laugh by clearing my throat, "Oh Heria, let a man rest. You can't wear us out too quickly, or we'll be useless in the future."

She presses soft lips to my right ear, and gently nibbles on my earlobe. "It'll be fast. I do have my girl to watch over."

The reason I like Heria is because she reminds me of girls from my district. Mainly because she looks like an actual human being compared to the Capitol freaks. True, while I'm here I will take some of the Capitol women for my own pleasure, but in my district it's nice to see the women in my bed look like real people. And for that reason, I can't resist Heria's suggestion.

Mags knows me too well, and tells me. "Go on. If anything comes up, I'll go looking for you. Which hopefully I won't have to because I cannot say what I would see."

Heria and I ignore the whistles and hoots from a few of the mentors as we leave the mentoring room, and find a small supply closet. By the time we're done, we've knocked down a few shelves, and various items are scattered across the floor. A few cleaning liquids broke and the fumes are going to our heads. It makes us laugh, and we sloppily put on our clothes. It's no secret what we've been up to, and the only people who are going to see us are the other mentors. Or so we thought until we opened the door and see President Snow waiting outside.

He has a small smile on his face but he also says dismissively, "Miss Clairmont." _So that's her last name_, I think as Heria gives a nod and goes back to the mentoring room. I must look fairly guilty because Snow tells me, "The Avoxes will clean the mess in there, but before you come with me, you may want to zip your pants and adjust your shirt."

I do both as we're walking. "Are you here to give me a new list?"

"Yes." he says in such a way that I know he has more to say. "My niece is in the gamemakers room and I would like for you to pay attention to her while I let you decide on what type of note to send your tributes. Tomorrow is her seventeenth birthday and her parents have finally agreed to let her have whatever she wants. I have a feeling today will just be a preview of what she really wants tomorrow."

I nod my head, but Snow stops me outside the gamemakers room—it's just a rumor, one I've only heard a few times, but when I smell blood, I imagine sores in his mouth as he threateningly asks. "It would be insulting if I needed to stress how dear my niece is to me, wouldn't it?"

I'm already wearing my crooked smile in preparation for meeting her. "No need to, I know exactly what to do."

"Just what I wanted to hear." Snow says, and then he pushes the door open.

The Head Gamemaker, Geminia Yubor, is giving out commands. "That morphling from Six is unnerving the audience since she won't stop screaming. Set a dragonfly mutt on her. No one else though. Have it take her to its underwater nymphlings, it'll die immediately after. I don't want the dragonflies attacking people until day six."

A chubby bleached white girl with a kaleidoscope of colors in her hair, turns around and sees Snow and I. Her face contorts into an unpleasant expression as she squeals, "Finnick!"

My smile brightens, and I go over to her. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. What is your name beautiful?"

Somehow she manages to blush beneath all that white, "Lauren Snow. As if you didn't know I'm President Snow's niece."

With feigned surprise, I turn back to Snow. "This lovely young lady is your niece?" He's smiling and nods. I redirect my attention back to her, and innocently ask. "How was I supposed to know you two were related?"

She blushes more and awkwardly says, "Oh, well, I suppose you couldn't have. I'm such a huge fan."

"If I'd known you were out there, I would have asked President Snow to introduce me to you much earlier. I absolutely love what you did with your hair. It's so colorful like your personality." Very lame, but girls like her eat it up.

"Oh uncle, he has to come to my birthday party tomorrow."

"It's your birthday tomorrow?" I ask.

"Yes. I'm going to be seventeen." She says proudly. Now she's begging Snow like a six year old, "Please let him come. Oh please please please. He has to come or I'll be absolutely miserable."

Snow tells me, "Mr. Odair, consider yourself invited."

"Consider myself truly honored." I reply. "Thank you sir. And thank you sweetheart. You're very kind."

Lauren is squealing, and she gives Snow a big hug. "I _have_ to tell all my friends. I'll see you at dinner tonight uncle, and I'll see you tomorrow Fin-Fin." I swear, that pet name Fin-Fin seems to be used all around.

She waves goodbye and leaves the room. Snow has a smirk on his face. "Fin-Fin?"

"It's a Capitol thing I suppose. I'm only called that here." I'm looking at the screen and see that the careers have gone to the mountain with caves. "So what's the greatest danger on those mountains?"

Snow's smiles has twisted into one of evil. "I would say the bird mutts. Once they catch a tributes scent, they can track them anywhere. The birds are confined solely to that mountain, but unlike the dragonflies they are currently active. Sleeping at the moment, but not for much longer. I'm sure as you guessed, the dragonfly mutts must stay at the mountain with trees except when they go to the nymphlings underneath all that water. But the dragonflies die once surfacing, and the nymphlings can only survive in the lake. And the mountain covered in rocks has, how would I describe them, deformed like beings?"

I want to gag, my stomach tightens, my throat has clenched shut as my mind can only imagine what kind of ghastly beings the Capitol conjured up for amusement. The psychological trauma alone will be enough to destroy some tributes. I need to say something. It's hard to bring myself to. Do it now! "Are the beings confined to the rocky mountains?"

"It depends. As long as they don't see a tribute's face, they'll give up following if that tribute makes it to another place."

"And if they see the tribute's face?"

"They'll follow as far as the tribute dares to go. The only way to get rid of the bird or beings is to either kill them, or force them on to another person's trail."

A cannon _booms_ and I spin to face the screens. There are so many though, my eyes can't find the one with the dead tribute. Snow slowly says, "Relax. It's only the girl from Six."

Eventually, I see that Kenin and Sally are walking through the tall grass with the other careers, visibility fifteen feet at most. I'm not sure where the birds are, and the most Snow does is alert me of the dangers, not of their specific location. They don't need anything for now, but I still need to send them a note. No mentor sends just a note. What would qualify as reasonable enough to be sent? Well, I am considered rather shallow.

"I know what I want the note to say and what gift to send them." I finally say.

President Snow simply replies. "You know what to do Mr. Odair, I have other business to attend to." I don't want to know what that means. It could be nothing, or it could be gruesome. One could never know for sure with Snow. He opens the only door to the Gamemakers Room, "I know it's fashionable to show up a few hours late to the parties you're invited to. Don't make that decision for tomorrow."

A few minutes after he's gone, I notice how much fresher the air smells. I'm talking to Geminia about the parachute and I rub nose to dissipate any lingering aromas of blood.

* * *

_Annie POV_

It's still fairly bright in Four, but the sun has nearly set in the arena. Kenin and the careers have cut a big circular clearing in the tall grass, and are using the huge clippings as fuel for a fire. An hour earlier, Sally had been sent to gather food. She brought back a meager supply of berries, fruits, and nuts, claiming there hadn't been much, although there had been a significant amount of food in the place she went picking.

Sally had picked several handfuls of nuts, and wrapped them in five separate cloths. Very carefully, she proceeded to stack those cloth bags in her backpack so they wouldn't fall over. And then she reopened the top bag and took a single nut out, smearing it with this blue flower's nectar. Next she put the nut back in the bag, shook it up, and then returned the bag to her pack before heading back to the campsite where she fed them her lies.

My fingernails nearly cut into my palm when Sally held the top bag of nuts in her hand because I knew what she'd done. She poisoned a single nut within that pouch with that blue flower. And if she decided to give it to Kenin, he would be dead with no telling in how long. Instead, she tossed that bag to Rueben, the next bag to Staryl, then Dazzle, and then Kenin, keeping the last pouch for herself. It seems Sally will be taking the deceitful route for winning the games rather than brute force.

I've begun to relax from the poisoned nuts, and I feel a bit more relieved when I see a parachute meant for Kenin and Sally. They open the parachute and their eyebrows furrow together, and the fact they stay in that position for over a minute makes me yearn to see what they got since the cameras don't reveal what's in the parachute. What could be so fascinating that it causes that much time for attention? The other tributes seem to notice this, and begin to look up suspiciously.

Kenin notices this, I can tell by the way his arm tenses, and I accidently drop a plate in surprise when he shows the tributes what they received and says, "Finnick sent us a bottle of sunscreen."

Staryl, Dazzle, and Rueben begin to howl in laughter at the sight of Kenin _actually_ holding a bottle of sunscreen. Dazzle is squirming on the ground, but manages to say, "You're beautiful mentor cares more about your appearances than your survival."

Kenin frowns. "That's what his note said. 'I don't want you both looking burnt on screen, put this on.' What kind of moron is he?"

The sound of my plate _shattering _has caused Binsen to come running out of the kitchen, and he's been trying to ask me, what happened? Finally I bring myself to say as the other tributes continue to laugh, "Finnick sent Kenin and Sally sunscreen. Sunscreen! That is completely irrelevant to their survival!"

Normally I would be getting yelled at for dropping yet another plate, but because it is Kenin on screen, Binsen lets out a quiet but very long sigh, and slowly drags a hand through his hair. He looks at the screen which shows that the careers have calmed down, and are now waiting for the national anthem with the airing of the dead tributes.

Polly is the only tribute who died outside the bloodbath. An orange dragonfly, with eyes the size of a cooking pot and a body as thick as a tree trunk, had snatched her up in thorny legs, leaving deep gashes all over her body, and then dunked itself into the lake below the bridges. It let Polly go, where she was snatched up by this ugly brown insect mutt which began to feast on her then dead body. I was grateful she wasn't alive because it began to eat her from the toes up.

The screen switches to Wen who is in the top of a tree, his face hidden from the cameras. Either sleeping, pretending to sleep, or crying. Al, from Eleven, walks underneath Wen's tree, a sword in hand, but continues on, never realizing how close to death he could have been. Apparently the camera's were waiting for some sort of fight, but since it didn't happen, the screen has changed to show Reyn and Gerta talking to one another inside a cave.

Binsen tells me, "Sweep up the shards. We don't want anyone getting hurt."

Kenin is safe, and I can't help but guiltily hope that Sally will die before she decides to lead Kenin to his death. This is what I hope for now, the death of other children. Almost wearily, I get a worn out dustpan, and sweep up the plate in its hundreds of pieces. Even though it's broken, it's still a plate isn't it? Just different. Most would probably disagree.

Then the anthem begins to play. I count ten faces, feeling that overwhelming joy again because Kenin is alive, even if it means ten dead children. The screen has returned to Reyn and Gerta, and even though I'm sure not much else will happen tonight, I grab the blanket from the downstairs closet, and settle on the floor with a towel for a pillow. My real bed would be far more comfortable, but there's no screen in there. And this is one Hunger Games which I cannot miss any minute of. Binsen mutters a goodnight as he walks by, turning the lights off so that I'm left in complete darkness aside from the screen's light.

Very vaguely, I reply while I lean against the entrance wall. "Goodnight." It's hard to concentrate on anything.

I'm listening to Reyn and Gerta, mainly because they're on the same mountain as Kenin. Reyn puts his jacket around her because it must be freezing and they were smart enough to not light a fire in the cave. "Here, this should help."

"What about you?" Gerta asks.

Reyn shrugs, but he doesn't deny that he's cold because his teeth are chattering. "Not going to make much of a difference when I die. Possibly better to die from the cold than at the hands of another tribute."

Morbidly, Gerta jokes. "So you want _me_ to live and get killed. I see how it is."

Reyn chuckles, "Out of the two of us, we both know you have the better chance at winning. Seems smarter to keep you strong, and the loser weak."

Her lips pinch together, but there has to be some truth about her being stronger because she doesn't counter his logic. Gerta scoots closer to Reyn, attempting to give some of her body heat to him. "I'm sorry it's ended up this way. You were always so nice to me even when the other people found out, well you know, and openly made their disgust known. We didn't even know each other really."

"I wasn't nice to you." Reyn shakes his head. "I stood by even though I understood the desperation."

"Every time you saw me, you would give me a small smile or nod. You did that to everyone, and you didn't treat me any differently. It made a difference." Gerta tells him firmly. Bitterly she says, "They think they're so much better than me, but they don't have six siblings to take care of."

Reyn gives her a nudge. "From what I gathered, I think they were more annoyed because none of them had the guts to do it, and the guys paid more attention to you."

Gerta laughs. "No they didn't! You're an awful liar."

"Why would I lie? As you know, I'm well liked so I hear things." He jokes. "Unlike you."

Playfully she shoves him, "Whatever. I liked it better when we didn't talk and you just smiled and nodded." They laugh together. Gerta's eyes settle on the cave's floor. "It was all for nothing though. They'll be sent to the community homes."

"First of all, it wasn't for nothing. You kept them at their home for the amount of years only you know." Reyn argues. "Secondly, you're going to try and become victor so you can go back home." But he also adds, "You seem like the person who wants realism, so even if that doesn't happen, they know all that you did for them and all that you tried to do, and that counts for something."

Gerta waits a little before before a smile creeps on her face, "Thank you." she says softly.

Comfortingly, Reyn puts an around Gerta and they lean back against the cave wall, his arm acting as a cushion for her neck and head. She tilts her head to the left and rests it against his neck and shoulder. These moments in the games are not about intimacy or a sudden bloom of feelings between unfortunate lovers. Many tributes develop these habits of accepting another person's company because it will be the last comfort they receive before dying. Except for the victor of course. But only one out of twenty four will win, and with no one knowing for sure who it will be, taking this form of comfort always seems wise.

The Capitol loves moments like these, so the cameras stay on them, waiting for the next conversation since neither tribute is sleeping yet. I'm not sure how long I've been staring at the screen, but suddenly Joln is sitting on the floor next to me.

I instinctively flinch, and he immediately apologizes. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. I've been saying your name, and I forgot how jumpy you can be."

My eyes are still on the screen, but I can picture his night black hair and sparkling green eyes and golden tan. I hold up my right arm so he can get under the blanket with me. "Shouldn't you be home?"

He's looking at me, probably a bit frustrated because sometimes I am so evasive, but he also knows me welcoming him under the blankets are the words my mouth won't say. "I thought you would want company."

In moments like this? Most definitely. I'm not sure how I've been handling things on my own, with the exception of Joa. I know Joln wanted to be here for me, but with the currents and tides, he needed to be out most of the time to take advantage of the various creatures flocking our shores. The time he had away from the beach has been to recuperate for the next day's work.

But I am so glad he's here with me now. I've been feeling myself struggle to not join in conversation with the darkness. It sings these strange songs, and I've been curious about them. It's been harder to make the clear distinction of the things in my head. I'd almost been free from this trap, but with Kenin's reaping, I got sucked right back down down down to drown?

I shiver violently, and press my body against Joln, realizing his statement is still lingering in the air by itself. Without company. He thought I wanted company. It's what I need. "I'm glad you're here."

Joln kisses my shoulder, but does nothing further because he gets how I am. With all my attention on the Hunger Games, us having sex would be a one way commitment. And I feel bad because he's been away for awhile, and now when he's here, I'm being far less responsive than I usually am, and my normal level of responding is already a great deal of work for him to get through. He knows I care for him, but it's not the level of emotional reciprocation he wants even if he's never said anything. But he gets me, so he's patient.

I take his left hand in my right, prop my right elbow on my raised knee and keep my elbow in place with my left hand. I'm not sure for who's comfort it is, but I press his hand to my lips and stay that way. He smells like the sea, and the taste of salt lightly tickles my lips. This makes me giggle before I can stop myself.

Though extremely surprised—I can see it burning in his eyes—Joln calmly asks with a smile. "What?" His voice is so filled with caring and affection.

_The salt particles were dancing on my lips and as their feet shuffled, I knew they were having a good time so it made me laugh,_ but I need to filter this thought. I tell him, with his hand still pressed to my lips, "I realized how much I've missed you and you're here now, and I am very glad, so I couldn't help but laugh." Not exactly the truth, or not at all, but it could be. I have missed him, and he is here now, and I am very glad, and his being here caused the salt to dance on my lips so I couldn't help but laugh.

Joln brushes the hair, from the side of my face, back and tucks it behind my right ear. His thumb is stroking my cheek and it feels wonderful because it has been a long time since I felt his touch. For this reason, I allow my eyes to peel away from the screen, even if it is only showing a sleeping Sheila from Nine at the rocky mountain. Our eyes hold, and I know he's searching to see if I'm actually giving him my attention or if I'm simply looking but not seeing. He must find what he's looking for because he slowly leans in, and stops right before our lips touch. This is a period, he knows, that any wrong move where I feel like I'm being pressured to do something I don't want to, may send me running in the direction with no thought of looking back. But I need his warmth, so I gently press my lips to him and close my eyes.

I'm not sure how much time has passed because when a rapid knocking causes Joln and I to pull apart, the screen has switched to Zay and Danica from Ten. Joln's eyes tell me to stay put, but I'm getting up from under the blankets. "It's Joa."

"How do you know that?"

"I just do."

Sure enough, it's Joa outside with a blanket around his shoulders, and a miserable expression. "She won't stop crying. I can hear her breathing and it's that shaky sound. I know Yurol is there, but I still feel alone. Can I stay with you for the following nights?"

I'm pulling him inside because the cold is already biting at my ankles and shoulders. "Of course, do you want some hot broth?"

Joa nods his head and steps inside. "Hey Joln."

"Hey Joa." Joln says with a bit more cheerfulness.

I ask Joln. "Can you make Joa some hot broth?"

I know he doesn't want to because he's tired and this was supposed to be our time, but without showing his reluctance, Joln shrugs off the blanket and hands it to me. "Sure, do you want anything particular in it?"

"Seaweed." Joa quietly says. "Lots of it."

Joln tells him with regret. "We don't have seaweed, I'm getting it in the morning."

Joa nods in understanding. "Some of that green, white fish. The one with the spikes on its head."

"We do have that. Do you want a lot?"

"Yes."

Joln is going into the kitchen, but I tighten my grip around his hand and gently tug him back to me. As a thank you, I kiss him again. I can tell this kiss depletes some of his reluctance, so I kiss him a bit more before letting go. He's staring into my eyes, his thumb stroking my jawbone, and his eyes say, I love you. It happens so quickly because then he's gone. Making Joa some hot broth in the kitchen. He must know his eyes said that which is why he departed immediately after.

A little over a month ago, Joln told me those three words, and got upset when I said nothing in reply. I should have said something, but he would have been left with empty words. What could I have said to such a declaration? Thank you. I know. I don't feel the same. I care about you. They all seemed like bad choices, so I decided not to say anything. He'd pulled out, and laid down next to me on his bed.

"What are we doing Annie?"

"Not having sex."

This upset him further. "That's _not_ what I meant. Why are we together if it doesn't seem like we're actually together?"

"It doesn't matter what other people think. We know we're with each other." I'd put my hand to Joln's cheek. "Why would you care if they thought we were or weren't together?"

His face hardened beneath my palm. "I mean, it doesn't _feel_ like we're together."

My facial expression hadn't changed, but I'd pulled my hand back and got out of bed. Joln must have realized how mean it sounded, but I was already walking down the stairs when he called out for me, and then I was out of The Shack. About halfway to Yurol's house, I realized I was still naked. And maybe if I'd had clothes on, Derek wouldn't have attacked me to put it loosely. The whole time, I forgave the rocks which had dug into my back, the night which had concealed this vulgar degradation, the wind which had not howled to alert neighbors only several feet away, the ground which had acted as a bed, my vocal chords which had remained silent.

It must have lasted for awhile because when he'd finally finished, releasing himself inside of me, the first rays of sunlight were streaming over the ocean and into Four. Derek didn't say anything, no threats, no warnings, just this smirk. Like he knew I would never tell anyone. And then he left me on the ground, and has acted as if nothing ever happened.

Several minutes later, when I gathered myself, I continued on my way to Yurol's house. I didn't think about how I looked when I knocked on the door, but looking back I'm glad she wasn't the one who answered. Instead, Kenin and Joa had. They must have been playing in the dining/living room the night before because they opened the door, rubbing the sleep from their eyes. But the sight of me instantly woke them up, and they quietly led me to their bathroom. Kenin had left to get some water for the wash-bin, and Joa held my hand the entire time I sat in there with my head pressed to my knees. Cold water ran down my back, a soft cloth was pressed to my skin, salt water poured over the cuts, and then a towel was wrapped around me. Maybe when Kenin had gone to get water, he also went back to The Shack and had gotten some of my clothes because they helped me dress, and laid me down on Kenin's bed.

Kenin finally asked, not able to withstand the question. "What happened?"

"Joln and I had a fight, so I left The Shack. And Derek saw me."

They didn't need for me to explain further. Like the teenage brothers I never had, they pulled the sheets over me and let me sleep. Neither of them told Yurol, and I haven't spoken of it to anyone else. It was a few weeks later when Joln apologized for becoming so angry and having not talked to me. And I forgave him too. Then three days later his endless fishing routine went on until tonight.

Kenin and Joa were there for me those first two weeks during which Joln ignored me, and a week after that Kenin was reaped. Now it's been Joa and I, and I know we both take comfort in each other's company. But Derek attacking me is something that crosses my mind, but there's nothing I can do about it so why dwell on it? Why let myself feel anything about it because it will only be energy loss. And I need all the energy I have just to barely keep my sanity.

Fingers wrap around mine, and Joa whispers. "I don't like him."

I've been standing in silence for several minutes, and Joa seems to know what I'm thinking about. Coming out of the past, I go over to the wall and sit down with my back against it as Joa settles down next to me. "He doesn't know what happened Joa." I try to explain.

"He shouldn't have let you walk away." Joa counters.

I'm glad to see a little bit of fire back in him, so I put my hand on his head and ruffle his hair because I know it annoys him. "I never thanked you or Kenin."

Joa pushes my hand off, and has a faint smile. "You don't need to, we know you're grateful. But stop ruffling my hair, before I ruin yours." He puts both hands in my hair and crazily rubs his hand in all directions so that my hair is now in front of my face.

We're laughing as Joln comes back into the front with a bowl of hot soup.

* * *

_Finnick POV_

Thankfully Sally and Kenin knew about the birds because I could tell they'd been keeping an eye out, and spotted the one lurking in the thick bushes. It was barely visible, just the off colors of blue, orange, red, yellow, and green in the bushes told them there was something suspicious. Sally was in the front when she started to walk slowly.

This caused everyone else to be held up, and Dazzle stormed to the front, stopping the group. "What are you doing?"

"I heard something scary."

"There was nothing. Keep walking!" Dazzle yelled.

Sally began to fake sniffle in distress, "I know I did, and I'm scared. It's frightening to be here, I just want to go home."

Dazzle raised her hand to strike Sally, when Staryl pushed Dazzle back. "Stop! We need her. If you end up killing her, we won't have anyone to manage our food."

This is in reference to this morning when Sally had woken up before everyone in the group, and looked around for food. She found these delicious yellow circular fruits which were a cross between a strawberry and banana. Then she'd gone back to the group, and pretended to wake up along with everyone else. They'd been forcing her to lead the way in case of a front attack, so she led them to these yellow fruits.

Everyone except Sally began to pick the fruits when she screamed, "Don't! Those are poisonous. They're meant to smell delicious to lure tributes but you'll be dead in twenty four hours. It's a slow acting poison that way more tributes will eat it when they see it doesn't poison a person immediately."

They'd all drop the fruit as if just touching it could poison them, except Kenin who'd slowly lets it fall from his hand. Because he knew as I did, that those fruits were perfectly edible. They only grow in Four along the seashore. But Kenin knew what she's doing so he went along with it.

Remembering that Sally was their food supplier, Dazzle had lowered her hand but pushed Staryl and Sally harshly. "Don't ever push me again Staryl or I'll skin all that pretty black hair off, and I am going to kill you Sally after you're no longer useful."

With that, Dazzle had taken the lead and only seconds later was mauled by the bird. It had an ugly round bulging body that was at least five feet in height, and a yellow beak the size of a pitcher. Its neck alone was another foot, and its head also another foot. It must have weighed a couple hundred pounds because when it jumped on Dazzle, she was pinned to the ground with the sound of ribs breaking. She got in one scream before the bird began to rip into her torso, pulling her innards out and eating it like worms.

By then the careers had abandoned her and were headed in another direction with at least a couple hundred yards between them and the bird. They continued to run for about fifteen minutes after Dazzle's cannon boomed.

Now they're in a clearing with no tall grass or bushes to conceal one of those birds. Rueben is annoyed he loss his tribute partner because it gave him an advantage over Staryl. "What kind of bird was that?" he asks aggressively to no one in particular.

Kenin shrugs, "A mutt probably."

"Did you see the way it jumped on her?" Sally begins to fake cry.

"Shut up! You're in the arena, you can't get emotional over every little thing!" Staryl yells.

I can't help but look over at Heria and remark, "Seems a bit hypocritical, doesn't it?"

Heria simply laughs, stretching her legs which raises her already short dress. "No different than your compulsive liar."

Haymitch drunkenly laughs, "Does she think that'll help her win? She'll probably die before her plan is carried out."

Gloss snarls, "I hope she does. She got Dazzle killed. I know she saw that bird."

"Well if Dazzle hadn't been such an idiot, she would have made Sally continue to take the lead. There was a reason for that." Cashmere says irritably.

It's mid-afternoon, and in this time two other tributes have died. The boy from Ten had pushed down his own partner when a human being like mutt climbed out of the pile of rocks they were walking across. It wasn't exactly human considering it had no visible face, and it's body was a sickly brown, grey color. Its limbs were swollen, misshapen, and located in varying places. One warped arm was located near its neck, the other located towards the center of its lower torso. Even its legs were crooked causing a staggering walking motion, but it could sure run. It'd fallen upon the girl, and its face seemed to crack open in a diagonal line where thousands of needle like teeth filled a blood red mouth. The being then slowly sunk its teeth into her throat, and I mean very slowly. It took a few minutes before it clamped all the way down, then abruptly ripped her throat out with such speed it startled a few mentors.

The girl from Nine was also killed by one of these beings about an hour after the girl from Ten.

It's down to eleven tributes, and Kenin is near the Final Eight.

Mags must feel my tension because she puts a hand on my knee. "Don't get too anxious now. It's only the second day."

Haymitch snorts to this since it means that I've begun to really worry about one of my tributes, but he doesn't say anything else. The entire time I've mentored with Haymitch, it's seemed like his disregard for his tributes' lives derived from him thinking of his tributes as stupid teenagers. Which I can't entirely disagree with considering the careless way in which Flora is walking along the edge of precariously piled boulders. But still, survival doesn't come naturally to everyone.

However, it seems like getting Haymitch to care about his tributes is a loss caused. So a few hours later when Flora walks into Al, it barely seems to affect Haymitch as he watches Al plunge the sword into her stomach. Her grey eyes glaze over, and her orange hair seems to have spilled across the green grass. Al walks away after searching her body and only finding a small knife. The cannon _booms_ and Haymitch gets up to leave.

I have to ask him, "Did you even try?"

There's sorrow in his eyes, but truth in his voice. "Finnick, we all know that those who can't make it to the third day aren't worth saving."

Before I can reply, Haymitch closes the door, probably not wanting to hear my response anyways. My eyes go back to the screens, but my mind is else where. Tonight is the party with Snow's niece, and then tomorrow Cashmere, Gloss, Heria, and I need to attend this banquet at his mansion. Sold and auctioned, but also a way to get new sponsors. Yup, the games never end for its victors.

* * *

Three hours into her own party, and Lauren is nearly incapacitated from being drunk. We've been in her bed for the past hour, and have yet to get started. I'm laying here, pinned beneath her, either waiting for us to begin or for her to hopefully pass out. She sloppily drags her tongue across my chest and makes her way to my lips. It feels like I'm being licked, and it's getting to the point where I'm losing patience. You know what, she's drunk enough that she can't control herself, but not drunk enough where she'll pass out. I need to stop this nonsense.

I manage to get my arms out from underneath her weight, and hold her face in my hands, forcing her to stop whatever she was doing. "You're so beautiful. The bleached white looks ravishing on you."

This makes her heart stop, and tears begin to form in her eyes. Great, she's one of _those_ girls. "You're just saying that."

_And_ she likes to beg for compliments. I stroke my thumb across her cheek, and stare my bright green eyes into her freakishly yellow pupils. "Of course I am, how could I ever deny your beauty?" My hand cups her chin. "I'm so happy to be here with you." I pause as if in a turmoil of deep emotions, and then heavily breathe. "Thank you for inviting me."

I've got her hooked, and Lauren breathes in slowly feeling a magnitude of emotions based off of false pretensions. She grabs one of my hands, and pushes it into her sweaty fat cheek. "Of course Fin-Fin. I love you. I've been in love with you ever since I saw you at your tribute parade."

My face depicts a countenance of being deeply touched. "You will always have a piece of me." And I use that as my signal for me to take the lead. I turn to my side, and then get on top. Finally I push myself in, and go through a slow soothing rhythm because I know she would not enjoy rough sex. Every minute I press my lips to hers, stroke her face with my hands, and whisper silly love claims into her ears. And like _every_ Capitol freak, she devours _every_ word holding it deep within her heart.

When we've finished, our bodies are drenched in various fluids, and I desperately want a shower, but I can't leave just yet for multiple reasons. Women don't like to be left right after sex, but more importantly, I need to get a secret from her.

Our bodies are still pressed tightly together, when I tell Lauren. "You know, I don't know anything about you. Yet you know so much about me."

She giggles and buries her face in my chest. "What do you want to know."

I push my lips to her head, "Tell me something interesting about you."

Whenever I sleep with a new client or random stranger of my choosing, I have them turn the music up extremely loud. They think it's so other people won't hear our screams, but it's really for this moment. She puts a finger in mouth, and thinks.

Finally she looks up and says to me, "I've been to every arena ever made."

I softly whisper into her ear. "Something more scandalous. And tell me as if it's a secret."

The warmth from my breath makes her melt, and I feel her body grow warmer as a reaction. Her body twitches as she thinks of something, and brings her face close to mine, whispering, "This is a major secret. Only a few people have heard about this." She presses her lips to mine. "I was looking through my uncle's study one time, and I found a journal that looked way old. I mean really old. It wasn't even nice." My body is straining because this could be vital. She needs to get to the point. "I didn't even want to look in it because it was dusty. Anyways, I did. And I didn't understand all of it, but it looked like it was about assassination plots. Of big political people I've never heard about. Maybe that's why I never heard of them. They're already dead. And one of the final parts was about wearing roses to cover the scent of blood from sores in a mouth which would be caused by drinking poison. Whatever that means. It just seemed so strange and it was in my uncle's journal, so he must know something about someone."

Oh he does, and that someone is him. I need more information. "How did some of the people die?"

"Staged heart attacks, created accidents, poisoning, framing a person to make it look like they were a part of a rebellion which is punishable by death." Lauren shrugs. "Stuff like that."

The only reason political people would need killing is because someone needed them out of their way, and if she didn't know the names of the people, it did mean it was before her time. And that would explain the omnipresent rose on Snow's shirt which overpowers the scent of blood, but not entirely.

Haymitch needs to know about this, but I can wait. Because it is patience which has allowed us to build the rising rebellion, and most plans need years to be carried out when they will have such a large scaled effect on everyone. Besides, I need to see what else she knows. But from now on, I know what I will be looking for when I ask about secrets.

* * *

An older lady with wrinkled blue saggy skin, and bright yellow hair. I kiss her neck. "You're so beautiful. The blue looks ravishing on you."

A young socialite with purple and orange striped skin. I kiss her right eye. "You're so beautiful. The purple and orange look ravishing on you."

A daughter of a secretary in Snow's mansion, who has bright pink skin. I press my lips to her ear. "You're so beautiful. The pink looks ravishing on you."

A young man with orange skin and green stars. I stroke his cheek with my hand. "You're so handsome. The orange and green look amazing on you."

One of the older gamemakers. I push inside. "You're so handsome. I like men with beards."

Heria. We do no talking. Cashmere. We don't talk either. Several decent looking Capitol women I meet at parties. It's rough fun where I can get what I want and just leave. Heria. We destroy one of the rooms in her suite. Another Capitol woman. She tells me a perverted secret of incest among a few of the politicians and their families. Cashmere. We always have fun together, but we'll always be enemies too. Many more clients which I cannot keep count of. A few secrets worth remembering.

By day five, I've caused quite a bit of commotion in the Capitol with all the parties I've attended and all the people I've slept with. Every night my picture has been shown on the screen of me leaving a club, party, house, hotel with my arms around a new face. The stupidity of the Capitol people amazes me because they see the news, yet believe I truly love them when we're together. And when I leave, they have a heartbroken sob story.

Maybe one of the reasons I've been so caught up in sleeping around is because Kenin is going to die. Mags and I figured out what Sally did. She covered some of Kenin's food, on day three, in the juices of this green berry which takes at least a week to kill a person. By then she figures everyone who is a threat to her will be dead, and that is also when Kenin will be disposable and no longer needed as her protection. I tried to send Kenin some medicine to reverse the effects, but Snow told me that all the poison in this game has been genetically altered to have no cure. There's nothing left I can do except to keep Kenin comfortable with gifts before he realizes he's been poisoned. At least he's taken company with Staryl since day three, it seems to bring him pleasure from what I can tell when I hear their moans from under blankets to keep out of the cameras.

And Sally's also made herself indispensable by telling the careers most of the food is poisonous, and they believe her despite nearly all the food being edible. This has created a sense of paranoia in the careers because they're beginning to view everything as a threat. They believe there's all these other dangers when there really isn't. Even Kenin believes her.

I thought he might have a chance at surviving when she poisoned his food because on day three he accidently walked into her, and both their bags fell to the ground. He thought he picked up his bag and handed Sally hers, but then she saw that her bag had this rope bracelet tied onto the strap which let her know that it was actually Kenin's bag. She told Kenin she had his bag because of the rope bracelet, and so they switched bags. If she hadn't noticed that, she would have taken her own poison. But she did catch that almost fatal error, and that was when Kenin loss all chances at winning. He'll be dead in five days. Which is when most games end, and Sally won't need force to finish him off. He'll protect her until then, and then he'll be dead.

Rueben began to show signs of becoming sick yesterday, and it's from that blue flower. Mags told me that Rueben would be dead by day eight or nine. Enough time for him to provide protection as well, but not close enough towards the end of the games where he would begin to turn on everyone because by then he'll be too weak. Sally must see Staryl as the smallest threat because she has made no move to kill Staryl yet.

In this time, Al was killed by Wen's spear at the bird mountain. Al was walking through the forest, and Wen was in the trees when he speared Al through the back at a distance of several yards. The boy from eight, I think Reyn, sacrificed himself when a being attacked him and his district partner after they went to the rocky mountain. It must have been an entertaining fight for the audience because he and the girl were getting close, and then they were separated forever. They were resting on some borders when a being crept up on them. It grabbed the girl by her hair and opened its mouth to bite down. Reyn stuck his arm in its mouth, and cut off the hand which held the girl by her blonde hair.

He screamed at her in pain. "Get out of here!"

She was crying and was about to stab the creature when a second one came the same way the first one had. "I'm not leaving you. We can take them."

Then a third one appeared. Reyn's forearm was ripped off, and he fell to the floor screaming in pain. The three beings began to feast on him, but he managed to yell one more time. "Go! Make it home to your six siblings!"

The girl's eyes said, thank you, and then she ran away. A minute later a cannon sounded. There were bits and pieces of the boy left, but the public screen had switched to that girl Ravindir, now at the bird mountain, who has somehow managed to stay alive. But I remember staring at the mentor's screen, and seeing the bloodied remains of the boy who sacrificed himself. That doesn't happen often, but sometimes one tribute will die for another one. Rarely though. It's only been seen three times out of all the sixty-nine games.

Then it came down to the Final Eight. I know I watched the other tributes' family and friends interviews, but I only paid attention to Kenin's. Maybe it is unfair that I'm playing favorites, but I feel like I owe him all of my support because of his brother. The cameras showed his younger brother Joa who talked about what a good brother Kenin was. Yurol, his sister, apparently hasn't come out of her room since Kenin was reaped, so the cameras didn't get an interview with her. And the cameras showed that girl from The Shack. The interviewer kept asking what her name was, but she didn't seem quite there. Like if she peered hard enough into the cameras, she could somehow reach Kenin. Finally, when they were about to cut, she quietly said. "We just want him to come home. He needs to come home. Make him come home. He's owed at least that considering last year." Now that I think about it, maybe she was trying to reach me.

And then yesterday, the boy from Ten who pushed down his district partner to save himself was also killed. He ran into the careers where Rueben strangled him against a tree. The careers are now on the mountain with the dragonflies, and I sent Sally and Kenin a note warning them that tomorrow is when the dragonflies would be a threat. They know to be careful about the water because day three's note, when they went to refill their canteens, told them about the nymphlings lurking beneath.

There's seven tributes left now, and it's going to be day six in a few hours. I let the steaming hot water run all over my body, as if it will open all my pores and cleanse the filth I feel beneath my skin. Normally I'm not bothered by my clients, but today the elder lady and young man I serviced both had abnormal fetishes. So I'm attempting to wash away the jitters I feel. At least my four other clients were alright. Maybe I can meet Cashmere at her suite before she goes back to the mentoring room. She must be still taking a shower as I am. I think she'll make me feel better.

I wrap a towel low on my hips, and go to the bottom floor. Several workers stare in awe, and I know there's this one particular smirk on my face. There's a man with his red hair gelled into circles, and his camera lets me know he's a paparazzi. He sees me, and when I open the door to Cashmere's suite, I turn, smiling mischievously at the camera when a picture _flashes_, and then I close the door behind me.

Cashmere must have had the same idea in mind because she's sitting on the dining table wearing a loosely tied bathrobe. "Always the whore for the cameras, aren't we, my dear Finnick."

The comment stings a bit, but that's the point. I slowly approach unbuttoning my pants and push myself between her legs. My tongue drags across her neck, and I bitterly whisper into her ear. "You're just another whore who I screw, like all the others, my dear Cashmere."

She pushes my chest back, and slaps me across the face. "You need this _just_ as much as I do. I'm not bending to your will golden boy."

My temper is flaring, and I can see the fire in her eyes. "Then why were _you_ waiting for me?" I push hard.

Cashmere pulls me in again just as fiercely. "Why did _you_ come here?"

We both begin to smile, and I lift her off the table as our lips connect. I shove her back into multiple walls while she scratches my back and bites my shoulders. Half an hour later, we're on a fur rug in the TV room. Cashmere is straddling me and both of our moans bounce off the marble floor and ceilings. It's so nice to be with someone who looks like a person, is good at sex, and despises me as much as I despise them. None of us mentors really like ourselves, and it's nice to take it out on someone else.

She leans down to kiss me, and I use this as the opportunity to flip her onto her back. I'm not gentle in any way, and Cashmere tightens in pain, but we both like it. Her body is slick with sweat, muscles rigid in pleasant agony, but she whispers for more. "Harder."

So I do. And the moans turn into screams of uncontrollable orgasms. Even my normal level of groaning is louder, and after one final push, I let my body rest upon hers, Cashmere's nails digging into my back. Eventually her fingers loosen, and I'm kissing her neck and lips because we both need to feel like we're loved without the actual emotions of love. We began to have this mutual understanding of displaying a false love/hate sexuality when I mentored for the first time after I won. We're the same age, and we're thrown into prostitution at the same time. But I know Cashmere has a harder time dealing with our circumstances. She wasn't sleeping with men in the Capitol for sponsors before we entered prostitution like how I slept with women, and she had no choice in the matter of becoming a whore while I did. Both are reasons for her hating me.

With a desperation I can't recognize, Cashmere grips my hair and holds my lips to hers. The overwhelming need I feel from her tells me that she is imagining I am another person. So, even Cashmere loves someone. I kiss her tenderly now, tacitly pretending to be the person in her mind. She goes along with this, and we stay intimately connected for the next twenty minutes.

But Cashmere must tire of pretending because we both know that no matter how much we pretend, it'll never be real. Her lips slow, and I know we're at the end. I look into her green eyes, and gently put my hand in her long blond curls. She puts a thumb to my lip and tells me, "I'm always going to hate you, Finnick Odair."

I kiss her one last time, and she doesn't push me away. "I know."

Cashmere stays beneath me for a bit longer. "You act so cocky and carefree. You have no idea the burden of this life because you have no one to love."

This stings in a different way, but I know it's not said out of cruelty. Cashmere is jealous because I have no one who the Capitol can hold against me, and for this too, she hates me. My eyes say, I'm sorry, but my lips still say. "I know."

Our acknowledgment of the other's life comes to an end, so I get off Cashmere and we get dressed. Our hair is a mess, and there will no doubt be cameras waiting outside for us now, but we both think alike. Cashmere pulls my arm over her shoulders and asks, "Shall we give them a show?"

"You're the only one who I feel is actually worthy enough to be seen with me."

Cashmere smiles at me with dislike. "How thoughtful of the great Finnick Odair."

"No more vain than the lethal Cashmere of One." I sarcastically reply.

We open the doors, and make our way through the cameras' flashes.

* * *

_Annie POV_

Despite the numerous news headings of Finnick and countless women including Heria and Cashmere, he's managed to find the time to send Kenin and Sally the gifts they needed. But they must have a no life saving medicine policy or something because Finnick has not attempted to send Kenin any treatments for the poison in his food, and I can't believe that Finnick would be that heartless. Unless he's placing his hopes on Sally. It just feels like, he heard me in the Justice Building and during the Final Eight interviews. So I'm going to have faith in Finnick. Because the thought of him not caring about Kenin's life might send me over the edge.

It's day nine, and only three tributes are left. Wen killed the little girl Ravindir when she was getting water at the lake. He crept up behind her and slit her throat. The red spilled into the lake, and there was just so much. It just kept flowing and flowing. Her face was in the water and it reminded me of being drowned. It would have been the most unpleasant death, but Kenin accidently got someone to actually drown. He'd been flirting and hooking up with Staryl for almost a week, and yesterday when they were getting water, he splashed her.

All her clothes were drenched, and she pretended to be upset. "This is going to take forever to dry."

Kenin shrugged. "It'll dry faster if you take it off."

Most tributes won't go nude on camera because the games are screened all over Panem, but there are a few who have no shame. Plus, I think Staryl figured this would get her more sponsors. Within the blink of an eye, Staryl stripped down, and teasingly pressed her body to Kenin's. "Now what? Are you going to join me, or do I have to get you wet? I know I am."

Kenin's eyebrows raised, and he smiled in such a way that I barely recognized the young boy I knew just a few weeks ago. He pressed his lips to hers, "Lets do it in the water this time. I'll meet you in there."

Under the cover of blankets, he and Staryl have been having sex since day three. And I wasn't going to judge him because in a few days they would have been fighting to the death—or Kenin would have died from being poisoned before then because as much as he tried to be discreet, the cameras caught the heavy breathing, shaky hands, trembling body, and exhaustion—plus this intimacy seemed to comfort them in the mean time. So Staryl had begun to grind her body against Kenin's, both of them kissing passionately, both of their hands going to intimate places, and both of them beginning to moan. Then, being the tease she was, Staryl suddenly pulled away and slowly walked into the lake backwards. She had this hungry smile, and she let the water rise around her body.

Playing at her game, Kenin slowly took off his clothes, bit by bit. One shoe here, then the other, a sock, then another sock, his belt, his shirt. Kenin had a teasing smile on his lips as he held his hands to his pants, keeping them there, building anticipation. Staryl had by then backstroked to the middle of the lake, and she blew a seductive kiss to Kenin. He took a step forward in response, but hadn't moved his hands from the same position. Whatever he was waiting for was disrupted by Staryl being pulled underwater.

Kenin's eyes widened in disbelief, and Staryl resurfaced screaming in terror. A greatly weakened Rueben and Sally had come just in time to see Staryl frantically swimming back to land when an ugly insect rose to the top and grabbed Staryl by the legs. It bit into her side, and dragged her back under. The cameras showed Staryl still screaming out bubbles beneath the water, until the last bubble floated to the top and a cannon _boomed_. It went back to the careers' perspective where it showed a calm but red lake.

This early morning Rueben finally succumbed to the poison, never having expected Sally of poisoning him because they all ate the same food. They comforted him in his death, and I could see then that Kenin is getting much worse. His coughing has become really hoarse, and so aggressive that sometimes he has a coughing fit for several minutes. Sally pretends not to notice his weakening, but you can tell she's just waiting for him to keel over.

After Rueben died, Sally wiped perspiration from her forehead, and stood up with shaky legs. A good act to pretend she was traumatized by all this death. "Let's keep going. There's two other tributes left."

Kenin agreed, and asked her for another blanket because he was cold despite it being visibly warm. They began to slowly make their way to Cornucopia, but it's going to take at least half a day.

And in the afternoon, Gerta shot an arrow through Wen's heart when she came up behind him at the circular bridge area supporting the Cornucopia. He was peering over the sides, checking to see if the careers were inside since they usually set up camp there. It was really just bad timing. Because Gerta had been on the other side of Cornucopia for maybe fifteen minutes, staring at the water, before she heard someone else on the bridge. She had her bow and arrow ready, but no one came on to her side, so she slowly walked around and saw Wen with his back to her. She released the arrow, and he died within seconds.

Now she's on the bridge crying in distress, but the cameras can't pick up any noise. Gerta must know she has to cry in silence in case other tributes are around. And Kenin and Sally are only a few miles from the bridges, but have set up camp on the mountain with trees because the dragonflies are the easiest to hide from as long as you can take cover. It's a quiet night. The gamemakers are allowing two tributes to have their last sense of peace.

Everyone can feel it. Tomorrow will be the last day of the games.

* * *

It's early in the morning when Kenin and Sally begin to continue on their way to Cornucopia. Kenin is covered in sweat, and he's not trying to hide his shaking from Sally because Rueben and Staryl are dead, and Sally is apparently not a threat since she has no weapon. Except he doesn't know that she's poisoned him. My heart is begging anything that Kenin can somehow outlive Sally long enough to not die from the poison.

They finally get to the bridge, and Kenin hands Sally the blanket. His voice is shallow and raspy, "Stay here. I think the girl from Eight is sleeping at the mouth of Cornucopia."

"What will happen when you kill her? Will you kill me too?" Sally asks with wide frightened eyes.

Kenin weakly shakes his head. "No. We'll stick together until something else gets one of us. It's bound to happen. We are in the arena after all. But if the girl from Eight kills me, run if you see her coming."

Sally nods, and tells Kenin. "Be careful."

"I will." he gives the traitor a hug, and begins to walk across the bridge.

Sally doesn't take off running until Kenin is at one of the platforms, and when he looks back and sees that she's gone, he smiles. The camera quickly shows Sally running through the mountain with dragonflies and taking cover in a bush that's well hidden among trees. She waits there. Now it's back to Kenin, and I can't believe my eyes.

Kenin is suddenly standing tall and not shaking. Perhaps the realization of death has forced him into taking on a strong stance. It's that last burst of adrenaline when a wounded animal fights for its life. He's running at Cornucopia, and dodges an arrow that flies in his direction. Kenin is at the circular platform, and jumps to the side, but not quickly enough because he takes an arrow to his left shoulder. Gerta is reloading the arrow, and manages to get him in the side before he tackles her and pins her to the ground facing down.

Kenin's right hand wraps around the bow and arrows, and he throws them over the side so there's nothing Gerta can attack him with. He also yanks the arrow out of his side and tosses it over. Accepting defeat, Gerta lays there with tears streaming down her face. "Please make it quick." She's sobbing now, and mumbling between cries. "I tried my best Janice, Kyle, Den, Paula, Nancy, and Seth. I'm so sorry. I love you all very much. I was proud to be your older sister, I hope you weren't ashamed of me. I love you all."

Quietly, Kenin asks. "Those are all your siblings?"

Gerta cries. "Yes."

"I'm sorry." He tells her with his sword still pressed to her neck. "I need to get back home to my siblings too. My brother died in last years game." Kenin bends down and asks, "Is there anything you want me to tell them at the Victory Tour?"

Gerta nods and asks him to come closer. She won't make any sudden moves because Kenin keeps the sword pressed to her neck, and if she tried to get up, the sword would cut into her flesh. He listens to her, and the cameras can't pick up what she whispers into his ear. Finally Kenin leans back and tells her. "I'll tell them. I think it would be better if you didn't know when it was coming. I'll let you stand up to look out at the mountains that way the last thing you see isn't the ground."

His sword is still pressed to Gerta's neck, and she slowly gets up. The anxiety of what is going to happen is enough to bury me. Everyone is wondering if somehow Gerta will get the upper hand. She is now facing the mountains, and her hands rest on the rope railings. The wind blows her hair back, and then her head is falling down into the lake.

Kenin didn't give it much time before decapitating Gerta because he knows the longer the wait only equals more torture. I expect him to go after Sally, but instead he pushes the rest of Gerta's body over the bridge, and then walks to the opposite side of Cornucopia and leans against the rope. He says aloud because he knows the camera's are watching him and therefore so are Gerta's six siblings, "I'm sorry." Kenin breathes in. "I am so sorry."

There's a look of devastated defeat on his face, but also one of toilsome triumph. For some reason, Kenin is certain that he won the games. Despite the fact he's not searching for Sally. What does he know that one else does?

* * *

_Annie & Finnick POV_

Sally is on the screen shaking violently. Her body is covered in sweat, and her eyes begin to roll back with her mouth agape. Foam dribbles out from the sides, and after she seizures for several minutes, her body gives one final jerk before falling still.

_Boom._

Claudius Templesmith congratulates, "Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victor of the 69th Hunger Games, Kenin Denfeze. I give you the tribute of District Four!"

That's it. Kenin has won.


	5. Chapter 5: Return to Four

**Enjoy! **

* * *

**Chapter Five: Return to Four**

_Annie POV_

My right arm is being weighed down, and it's only when I stop running and look down to see why half my body feels so heavy, do I notice I've literally been dragging a protesting Joa along with me. He's covered in dirt and scratches, and only now I can hear him complaining. "Did you have to drag me like that? I can run on my own."

I guess the moment it became official that Kenin was victor, I'd stopped whatever I was doing and immediately grabbed Joa and began running. My mind is too frantic, it's hard to keep my thoughts together. "Let's run." I take off again, and hear Joa behind me. Every little piece of me is singing with joy because Kenin won. He won! I can shout it from the roof of all the buildings here in District Four. "Kenin won!" I scream, and then realize I'm not keeping my thoughts inside.

But Joa joins in with me so I don't feel so abnormal. "My brother won the 69th Hunger Games!"

People are looking at us with grins, and I run faster as I see Yurol's house. When I _slam_ into the door knocking it down, and am laying on the floor completely stunned, it does cross my mind I should have slowed my pace and used the handle. Now every bit of me is searing in pain, but the joyous songs overwhelm the shock. Before Joa can ask if I'm okay, I run to Yurol's door and we both begin to pound on it.

"Kenin won!" I yell.

"Yurol, he won! He won!" Joa repeats.

I'm pounding my fists on her door because she _needs_ to come out now! "Kenin is coming home!"

The door swings back and despite the stench of putrid everything, Joa and I wrap our arms around Yurol who we haven't seen for over two weeks. She smells revolting, her hair is stiff and matted together, her skin feels disgusting, but I'm kissing her cheeks regardless and singing, "Kenin is alive! He's the victor."

All three of us are hugging each other, jumping and swinging at the same time, that it's really a discombobulated entanglement of limbs, but it's what we do for a very long time. And it feels like we'll never come down from this elation, but things eventually calm down, so I wrinkle my nose in playful disgust and tell Yurol, "Now please go take a bath. Everything is going to be okay. He is alive!"

Yurol kisses me on the cheek, and finally complies with returning to her daily hygiene. "Thank you, for everything."

I know what she means, and I give her the smile which says, _I'll always be here for you. You know that._

Yurol nods, and goes to take a bath. We're relieved she'll be back to normal, so Joa and I turn around, and then remember the broken door. _That_ makes me remember the impact, and now my body hurts. But I can't help but think it was all worth it to tell Yurol the news even if it was just a few seconds sooner.

Teasingly Joa reprimands me, "You broke our door Annie. I shall expect a new one tomorrow morning."

I make a face at Joa, pick him up because I'm stronger than he is, and swing him around. "Oh please, you guys will be living in the Victors' Village. This door will be the last thing on your mind."

Joa's been pushing against me, and I set him down. He sighs heavily and crosses his arm. "Don't do that. You already dragged me across the road like a child, don't swing me around like one."

Giddy with happiness, I tap his nose with my pointer. "Blip." I giggle. "But you are still a child. C'mon, dance with me."

At this point, Joa can't resist because he too is overwhelmed with the happiness of knowing that Kenin is the victor. Kenin is alive. What a beautiful phrase. Kenin is alive. We dance in the living/dining room. Yes. Kenin is alive.

* * *

Finnick POV

Kenin is alive. I'm not sure how. But he is. That's all I wanted. For him. For Minul. For his family. Maybe I can allow myself to feel a little bit better because he survived. We'll see.

It's only after the doctors have done their medical and psychological examination do Mags and I get to see Kenin. There's a tube in his arm for fluids, and they've already patched up his arrow wounds. The dazed look in his eyes lets us know that he is swimming deep in morphling. Kenin tells us, "I won."

Mags takes his hand. "You did."

I'm standing at the side of his bed. "You'll get to go back home."

"I don't deserve to." Kenin replies.

Mags and I look at each other because this is normal. It's the guilt most victors feel. The self loathing I wish I could have protected him from. "Remember what you told me?"

"No."

"You told me, before you became a victor, that I should forgive myself. That we can't hold ourselves accountable for what we've done."

"So?"

"Take your own advice. We can try together."

Kenin's face scrunches up as he struggles to comprehend this. "Together?"

"Together." I tell him.

He's in much better condition that most victors, but he has a lot of recovering to do. Kenin leans his head back into his pillow, and drowsily mutters. "You promise?"

"We'll try together, I promise." I tell him.

Mags holds Kenin's hand until he definitely falls asleep fifteen minutes later. We could see that he didn't want to sleep. He kept trying to jerk himself awake. Away from the nightmares which eventually pulled him down under. Now, in his sleep, Kenin murmurs strangled sounds of fear. So we stay with him. Together, like I promised.

* * *

"I don't want to do this." Kenin softly tells me.

He's been very quiet. Not saying anything unless someone talks to him, keeping his head down low, picking at his food. Not good signs, but he could be a lot worse. When we get back to Four, I am going to be there for him that way he doesn't turn to drink or morphling or sex. Like Haymitch, the Six mentors, or me. He deserves to have a better life than us.

I gently knock my shoulders against his. "It'll be over soon. Just a few more things. And then we can go back to Four."

"Four." Kenin says, reminding himself of a happier place. "And then we go back to Four."

He also repeats things a lot. Like he needs confirmation. I nod. "Yes. Then we'll go back home and your family will get to live in the Victors' Village with you."

"And Annie." Kenin adds.

"And Annie." I repeat, whoever Annie is. Maybe his girl.

"Kenin Denfeze!" Caesar Flickerman roars, and the audience goes wild. Kenin sighs, and walks out on to the stage. He's smiling and waving, putting on a good act. "Kenin, so nice to have you back."

"It's great to be back."

Caesar laughs, "I'm sure it is. Now the question on everyone's mind is how _did_ you win? We all saw you eat the poisoned food, yet Sally died from poisoning. Surely she wasn't so careless to have mixed up the bags." They show a clip of Sally seizing, and then her death.

"But she was that careless." Kenin tells him after the clip has ended.

Caesar's face looks confounded. "Perhaps you can enlighten us."

Kenin nods. "I'll start from the beginning." He crosses his legs. "I knew Sally was intelligent because she mentioned it on the train." Sally had asked me if smarts could allow her to win. "And I knew then that her intelligence would be her weapon. So I pretended to have strength considering I am from Four."

"Pretended?" Caesar asks.

"Yes, pretended. I'm actually not that strong, but I played on people's ignorance. The careers assumed I was strong because of my district, and so did Sally." Kenin shakes his head. "But I'm not that strong, strong enough, but I too relied on my own intelligence which I failed to mention to the other careers."

"So it was a game of the minds?"

"Exactly." Kenin agrees. "I worked out with the careers at the Training Center, but I observed Sally because her body language gave away that she was working on something important. Everyone else ignored her because they assumed she was weak, and that was their fatal error." He goes into more detail. "She'd asked our mentors for a paper and pen to write letters to our loved ones, but they told us that was forbidden. Before that she'd walked around and observed people, but after they told her we weren't allowed stationary, her routine immediately changed to working at the paint station and observing people."

Caesar nods, but doesn't say anything because he too is curious about what Kenin is getting at. "People like her, don't change their routine unless it's important. So I placed mirrors all over the room we trained in. None of the other tributes thought anything of it, they all just thought I was a bit strange. And I only put up mirrors when Sally wasn't paying attention because I knew she was the only one who would know something was up." Kenin leans forward. "And that's what allowed me to win."

Caesar is confused. "What do you mean?"

Kenin smiles. "Through the mirrors, I was able to see what Sally was doing at the paint station."

"What was she doing?"

"Writing out her mental strategies of how she would win the game. We weren't allowed paper or pen, remember?" Caesar nods. "So at the paint station, Sally was writing out what she was going to do. I read every little detail of her plan. All the plants she knew which were poisonous, how long it would take for the poison to kill a tribute, and when she planned to kill a tribute. Every arena has some sort of poison, and Sally knew them all. I learned them along with her." Kenin shrugs. "I saw her plan of how she would convince the careers to let her join, but I knew they would reject it. So I convinced them to let her join us as long as she was in charge of the food."

Caesar catches on. "Because you knew that was her strategy."

"Yes." Kenin tells Caesar. "How do you think I got a nine for scoring? Like I said, I'm not strong. So I had to impress the gamemakers with something else. And very few games are won by psychological assumptions. But the information I knew was valuable. I guessed that Sally would try to impress the gamemakers by telling them about her strategy, and she must have impressed them because she got a seven which is rather high considering her lack of strength." Kenin runs a hand through his hair. "So I went in after her, and told them what I knew. It came down to, Sally's plan had a shot at working, but her victory was based off of no one else knowing her plan. Which I did. So while Sally thought she would win, I could turn the tables on her and it would be a reverse strategy. Poison her with her poison. All I needed from them was a nine to make the careers think I was strong, but not strong enough to pose as an immediate threat. I also told them, what better game would it be than to leave all of Panem with questions as to how I won if I did win. It would stir up great noise within the Capitol. And so I got the nine."

Caesar nods, but then asks. "You said, poison her with her poison?"

"That was the most important part." Kenin tells him. "I knew she was going to poison my bag on day three, so I needed a way to switch bags." I suddenly remember the only chance Kenin had to do this, and why he was so fixated on untying and tying that rope during training. "Remember that moment when I walked into Sally and our bags fell down?"

"Yes." Caesar says. "But she had your bag, and gave it back to you."

Kenin shakes his head. "No. I'd had a piece of rope tied to my bag for identification, and when our bags fell, I untied the rope while picking my bag up, and tied it on to Sally's bag when I grabbed hers to give it back."

"She gave your her bag!" Caesar exclaims.

Kenin smiles, but I can detect the grief underneath. "She did. I knew she would poison my bag with a slow acting poison that way I could protect her long into the game. So I pretended to be sick, and getting weaker. When in reality, she was the one who was sick and weakening. But she ignored all the symptoms because she never thought our roles would be switched.

Caesar thinks of something else only Mags and I know for sure. "With Staryl, did you also know she would die by swimming out into the lake? I remember you seemed to be waiting for something, I thought it was well, something sexual, but now it does seem odd that you didn't go in considering you are from Four."

A clip of Staryl and Kenin's scene at the lake plays for a few minutes.

When it's finished, Kenin covers himself smoothly. "I did know Staryl would die in the lake. In Four, we're trained at a young age to keep an eye out for barely visible indicators of dangers in water. Most people outside of our district can't detect the slightest hints, and the cameras don't allow you to see what I saw. But I knew something was in there when I was in the arena, and I guessed it was dangerous enough to kill Staryl."

What Kenin just said is a lie. It's true we can see the slightest hints of dangers in the water, but the cameras would have picked up any clues right away. And there were no signs of danger. But by him saying you had to be there in person and that you also had to be from Four to be able to see it, nullifies any chance of someone catching this discrepancy.

"And Gerta. You killed her."

Kenin stiffens a little. "Yes, I did that as well."

"But that was strength."

"It was. Staryl for example, I couldn't have killed with strength because she was physically stronger than me. Which is why I killed her through deceit." Kenin then softly says. "Gerta wasn't stronger than me though. If she had been, I probably would have died. But it was a chance I needed to take. And everything ended up working out for me."

"Yes it did." Caesar says firmly. "And what did Gerta ask you to tell her family?"

Kenin's lips press together. "That's for them to know."

Caesar playfully exasperates. "Alright then, we'll let you keep this secret." He lets a a small laugh before asking. "What are you going to do when you get back to Four?"

Kenin is looking into the cameras, reaching out for his family. "Reunite with my family."

Caesar stands up, and Kenin follows. Caesar holds Kenin's hand up and booms, "Ladies and gentlemen, Kenin Denfeze the victor of the 69th Hunger Games from District Four!"

The audience screams and claps, they take a bow, and Kenin returns to the backstage. He seems exhausted from all that talking, and he allows himself to lean against Mags. "Do we get to go home now?"

"One more day." I tell him, "You need to be crowned by Snow."

Kenin's face twitches, but he simply says. "And then we go home after that?"

"Yes. The crowning is the last thing. And then we'll go back to Four."

"And then Four." Kenin repeats.

* * *

Annie POV

Kenin doesn't get to greet us until the official welcoming home ceremony has concluded. It takes excruciatingly long hours, and we're forced to wait amongst the crowd. Finally, he's allowed to get away from the Capitol freaks.

Yurol embraces Kenin in a tight hug, and Joa attempts to wrap his arms around them both. I give them a few minutes of much needed _real_ family time, before I go over to them and wrap my arms around everyone. Kenin's arms go around my waist, and we all stay like that for several minutes. There's nothing but silence in my ears despite the excited chatter of people.

All I know in this moment is the great peace of having Kenin back.

When we pull apart, Yurol is sobbing with relief, sniffling and wiping mucus on the back of her hands, not caring who sees. "You came back." She cries with joy.

Kenin gives a small smile. "I told you I'd try."

She's still crying, but cannot saying anything else because her throat has swelled shut with overflowing emotions. I'm looking Kenin in the eyes, and I see the damage which Yurol cannot see through her blinding happiness. He's different. Very much so. I'm not sure who else can see this, but Yurol and Joa need to know. Or they'll be devastated by the shock of Kenin's hidden change.

For now though, it's not the time for assessing how broken Kenin has become coming out of his victory. I let him know, "We all still love you very much."

"Of course we still love him." Joa exclaims.

But I can see that my words have an effect on Kenin, who it seems like needed to hear something along those lines. So I agree with Joa. "Of course we do. Kenin," he's looking at me eagerly as if he needs to hear more, "we couldn't be happier that you're back with us. You were sorely missed, and now that you're back everything is better."

He doesn't believe me, but I can tell it's going to be awhile before he truly comes back to us. Somewhere in his mind, he's still in the games. Still tormented by them. Still, and maybe always, destroyed by them.

"I needed to come back to you guys." Is all Kenin says. And I know that he means, he needs us all.

Joa tells Kenin, "Annie and I watched you every single night. We stayed up late in The Shack and tried to watch every minute except when we fell asleep."

This seems to puzzle Kenin. "You and Annie?"

"Yeah." Joa says.

He turns to Yurol. "Didn't you watch?"

This catches her off guard. Yurol stumbles on her words, "Well, no. I never left my room, I couldn't stop crying. I didn't come out for anything."

"You didn't watch." Kenin repeats. "What if I had died?"

"But you didn't." Yurol stammers. "You're here now. You're alive."

"But what if I had died!" Kenin suddenly yells. He's screaming at her now. "What if I had died! What if I hadn't made it back! What if I had died in the arena! I would have died without your support!"

None of us have ever seen him this angry, and it's truly frightening. I've dropped to the ground with my hands covering my ears, hoping if I can't hear it, then it'll disappear. But I can still hear the agony. "You forsook me! How could you have abandoned me like that! I could have died! What if I had died!"

He keeps repeating, _What if I had died?_ But I feel like he's actually asking, _Why didn't I die?_ And I know he's not angry at us, that he's angry about things we can't begin to imagine, but this anger is so directed at Yurol, and it tears me apart.

Muffled voices.

"Kenin calm down."

"_Don't_ tell me to calm down Capitol whore! My own sister gave up on me. Don't you dare try to pretend you know what it's like to be betrayed by someone you love." Why can I still hear the sneer in his voice? "Finnick Odair is above love, isn't he?"

A voice which is a bit garbled. "Kenin you need to calm down. Or they'll medicate you."

"Let them!" He's screams. "You didn't even watch my games! What if I had died!" Footsteps running, a struggle, sand kicking up around me. Screaming morphs into a distraught sob. "I didn't have a choice! Everything has been taken! Those freaks cared enough to watch." The crying gets softer. "I shouldn't have come. It would have been better to stay." Silence.

A panicked voice. "Where are they taking him?"

Still muffled. "To the Victors' Village. Your home is next to mine. Mags' is directly across." Someone takes off running. A pause. "What is she doing?"

Someone I know, who's a bit calmer. "Blocking out the noise."

Strong hands gently guide me to my feet, and when I open my eyes, I'm blinded by bright green. Startled, I stumble back, still not able to hear clearly, but the green catches me by the waist. The person allows me to steady, and then slowly takes their hands away as if they think I'll fall back again. Their eyes have such an intensity, it brings me back somehow. I remove my hands from my ears, and my senses come back.

"Where's Kenin and Yurol?" I ask Joa, although I'm still looking at this person. All I can see are their eyes, as if something is inhibiting my vision of everything else.

This person responds instead of Joa. "The Victors' Village. At their new house."

I blink. And now I can see. I'm talking to Finnick Odair. "Oh."

"What? Has your dislike for me already returned?" Finnick asks.

Dislike? It takes me a bit. Yes, he was talking with the peacekeepers about the games like he found it amusing. I had to force myself to believe in him—even though I detest what he represented that morning at The Shack—because he was Kenin's mentor. Not to mention, Mr. Finnick Odair, you seemed to care more about parties and sleeping around than really keeping an eye on your tributes. Be a whore, I don't care, but don't do it while other people's lives are in your hands! Yes, you make me rather furious. But Kenin did make it home, and for that I will always be grateful. I don't see how you did much to help him, but Kenin is alive. And that's a beautiful phrase.

I sigh. I can't deny that with Finnick and Mags as his mentor, Kenin did return to District Four. So I turn to Joa because as Finnick said, they'll be living in the Victors' Village now. "Lets pack some stuff from your house and bring it over. Maybe that will make Kenin feel better."

Joa uncertainly waves goodbye to Mags and Finnick, but I don't see if they wave back because my back is already turned to them. A lot is on my mind, so Joa and I walk in silence to their home. It's only when I see the door and my dislike for it returns do I remember that I never answered Finnick's question. _No. It's not that I dislike you now. _I think about it,_ I just don't like you._

* * *

The sound of someone screaming jolts me awake, and I'm sitting up on the couch frantically looking around. No one in this house is screaming, but I can still hear it coming from somewhere. But where? It's not that loud either, but any nightly disturbances cause me to awake in a panic. These screams sound terrified and broken.

My feet touch the cold ground in the Victor's House, and I wander around downstairs trying to find the source. It's louder near the side window, and I press my ear against the cold glass. The scream comes again, and then I know it's coming from Finnick's house. No one else seems to hear it, but it's driving me insane because I picture him being tortured or eaten or stabbed or something.

So I grab the keys, which he'd given to Kenin, off the table, and go outside. It's really cold, and my thin spaghetti strap top is lifting in the wind exposing my stomach which only makes me colder. My hands are shaking as I insert a key, and then another one because the first one didn't work. The doorknob turns, and I push the door open, going inside.

Now that I'm actually in Finnick's house, the screams are a hundred times louder and it frightens me. All I want to do is cover my ears and sit on the ground, but if he needs my help then I can't be a coward. Still very terrified, I run up the stairs, and am now being deafened by his screams. The sound of someone also thrashing around is coming from a room on the right, and I push it open.

Finnick's limbs are flailing around, his back arching as if in pain, and the veins in his throat bulging as he lets out another earsplitting scream. But his eyes are squeezed shut as he experiences whatever nightmare. It looks like he's desperately trying to force himself awake, so I set the keys on his dresser and scream several times. "Finnick!"

He gives one last roar before his eyes snap open and he begins to sputter with a raw throat while sitting up. Finnick's chiseled chest heavily rises and sinks as he takes in several deep breaths. He's calmed himself, so Finnick lifts his head and looks at me. And I look at him. His body is covered in a sheen of sweat. All of his muscles are rigid with tension so that I can see the veins in his arms and the hard patterns in his abdomen. His legs are tightly clenched so that his calves are bulging and his thighs look incredibly strong. He also has a fairly larger one than Joln.

But it's his face which has my attention. Sitting in his bed naked, after just having awoke from a fit of screaming and thrashing around, Finnick looks very vulnerable. It's not what I've seen on the screens or around the village. I'm not sure if it's something many people have seen. Maybe this is how the victors really are. Scared and alive. Because Kenin was making terrified murmurs in his sleep when they knocked him out with morphling. It wore off, and he fell asleep in his bed with the occasional whimper in the night.

Finnick asks in a hoarse voice. "Why are you in my house?"

"Because you were screaming." Was that not obvious?

"I know." he says slowly, but asks again. "So why are you in my house?"

"Because you were screaming." I say again.

He squints his eyes, and then opens them. "So you broke into my house?"

"I did not." I say indigently. "You gave Kenin the keys to your house, and I heard you screaming so I came to check on you. It sounded like you were being tortured."

Finnick pulls himself up more, not bothering to pull the sheets up. "Wait, you heard me?"

"Yes. It was very disturbing." I tell him.

"How could you hear me?"

I'm not sure why this matters. "Because I live right next door. I'm surprised no one else heard you."

"You're living with Kenin?"

"Yes. He asked me if I wanted to live there." The way he keeps asking me things is starting to get annoying. I cross my arms under my breasts. "Do you have a problem with that?"

Finnick laughs. "Not at all." He blatantly looks at my chest. "Are you his girl?"

"What?" I can't help but ask in a shocked voice. "Absolutely not. I'm like his older sister."

"You must be a close family friend." Finnick says, his eyes still wandering down sometimes. Which seems rude but I'm no less guilty I suppose.

But I make it a point to look between his legs while I talk. "I am. They're my family now."

This makes Finnick laugh, and he suggestively pats the bed. "Do you want to keep me company too?"

His suggestion makes my face flush because that was not my intention this entire time. I've always been okay with seeing naked parts, but whenever more is suggested, it makes me flustered. Not because I want to do more—it's the insinuation that I do. My arms squeeze tighter against my chest. "No. I only came to see if you were alright. I was trying to be nice."

"Sure you did." Finnick says mockingly. "You came to see me in nothing but a thin flimsy top which lets me know that it's cold outside and underwear. That's _very_ nice of you."

I look down and see what he's talking about. My crossed arms are accentuating my breasts and with no bra underneath my thin top, it's easy to see other features of my breasts which are made more prominent in cold weather. I'm also wearing underwear that just covers the V like flesh between my thighs and half of my cheeks. Not that he can see the latter, but I am wearing revealing clothes where he can see enough.

My arms drop and I put my hands on my hips. "Not everyone wants to get in bed with you _Finnick_."

"If you came to bed with me, you would understand why they always want more." He teases.

"Yeah well," I'm getting too flustered by both of our now apparent nakednesses, "don't count on adding me to your list of brainless women. We all know Finnick Odair doesn't fall in love."

Finnick leans forward. "What if I promised to love only you?"

"Then I would be an idiot to believe you."

He pats the bed again. "We'll never know unless we try."

I roll my eyes. "I'm with Joln."

"Your guy?" Finnick asks.

Is Joln my guy? I guess he would be considered my guy, but I've always just thought of him as Joln. I care about him, he makes me feel better. But my guy is such a strong word of commitment. "He's important to me." I finally say.

"And yet your in my room with a naked me and half naked you."

His implication makes me lose my patience. I grab a pillow off the floor and throw at him, even if he easily catches it. "Well I'm leaving. And if I hear you screaming from now on, I won't check on you."

While I'm walking down the stairs, Finnick calls out. "You can check on me whenever you want, especially if it sounds like screams of pleasure."

I yell towards the stairs before I leave. "I'm never coming back here!"

For dramatic effect, I slam Finnick's front door shut. I'm at Kenin's house when I realize, there are no keys in my hand. Dumbly I stand looking at the door, debating if I should wait outside, pound on the door until someone comes, or make the shameful walk of going back to Finnick's house. I can handle everything but the latter, and I'm about to turn around so I can sleep on the porch, when I feel somebody's body enclose me as they reach past and insert the keys to Kenin's house into the lock.

Their breath is hot in my ear. "You forgot these on my dresser. The offer still stands if you're ever interested."

I'm so mad at Finnick for sneaking up on me without my knowledge, and that I looked like a fool standing outside a locked house, that I can't resist the urge to elbow him in the gut where he lets out a groan. I've opened the door and turn back around to face Finnick, who is still naked! He's slightly bent over, and has a hand to his right side, but there's a smile on his face.

I don't cross my arms again. "Do you just walk around naked without a care?"

He straightens up, and puts his hands on his hips the way I did in his room. "I don't care who sees. Most people enjoy the sight anyway."

"Not interested." I tell him, and then I slam the door in his face.


	6. Chapter 6: Acquaintances

**Hope you guys enjoy =] **

* * *

**Chapter Six: Acquaintances**

_Annie POV_

Joln's arms are around me, and I bury my face in his chest. It's wonderful to feel protected. Completely secure in his arms. Closing me out from the world surrounding us. This is what I need more than anything. To feel safe. In his arms. Yes. A sigh of blissful pleasure escapes my lips.

"What are you thinking?" Joln asks, his lips pressed to my head.

_Your embrace is keeping me away from the hungry eyes and forceful arms of Derek. When you're back in The Shack, he keeps his distance. But when you leave, he reminds me of that night which you don't know about. But I'm safe now. With your arms wrapped around me. Normally I would be sleeping at Kenin's house, but he's been staying over Finnick's for the past few nights so he hasn't needed me there. And I needed someone here for me._

His heart is beating beneath my lips. "This is nice."

Joln's tone lets me know that he was expecting more words. "It is." He pulls back, exposing my face to the world, and looks me in the eyes. "Why did you move to the Victors' Village?"

_Kenin needs me there. He's not forgiving Yurol. And I'm the only one who waits patiently through his anger. Joa and Yurol have distanced themselves because they don't know what to do. But all he needs is someone to ride the waves of hatred with him. Plus, Derek goes to The Shack a lot. I want to be far away._

"Kenin asked me to." I tell him.

That's not a good answer to Joln. "So?"

I'm confused. "Kenin asked me to." My head tilts, and I put a hand to his face. "What else is there to say?"

He sighs forcefully. "The Shack was closer to me. We can't see each other like we used to."

_That's what you meant? You're not asking, why did I move to the Victors' Village. You're asking, why did I move further away from you? Is that what I was supposed to think about?_

I can't say, _I know,_ or, _I didn't think about that_, because it will only upset him. So I say a truth, "I'm with you now."

Joln wraps his hand around mine. "I realize that. It's just, Finnick was Kenin's mentor and he lives right next door. You're not slipping from me, are you?"

It's such an absurd fear that I can't help but laugh. Really laugh at the insanity of his fear. Which I guess does mean that I am laughing at Joln, but I don't think about this when I say. "That's ridiculous! Finnick? You're threatened by _Finnick_?"

His face hardens like that night—the reason I want the security of his arms. "Don't laugh at me. You're always so," he's trying to hold back the words, but I guess his anger wins, "_damn_ insensitive Annie. Sometimes I don't even know why I put up with this."

With that, a naked Joln gets out of the bed, and slams the bathroom door shut behind him. He's left me naked, vulnerable, and alone in his bed, and it burns the back of my throat. All the tears I won't cry in this moment are stuck in my throat, and before he comes back, I remember to put on my clothes and then I leave.

This is familiar. Walking through the village at night because Joln has become angry over something that's my fault. Why does he stay with me then? He knows what to expect, yet he keeps expecting a different outcome. I don't understand. Maybe the stars know why. I look up to them seeking an answer, but they stay where they are. Little lights in the sky, stuck in the black. It was worth a try.

I continue walking, sincerely hoping Derek isn't around. The thought of him prowling in the village makes me increase my speed, but I guess it wasn't fast enough. I forgive you, rocks. I forgive you, moon. I forgive you, wind. I forgive you, ground. I forgive you, vocal chords. I forgive Joln only for this because he couldn't have known, but I don't forgive him for abandoning me. I hate that stupid smirk. I hate that damn smirk.

Fully clothed again, I'm walking in the empty streets of the Victors' Village. My skin feels raw, and my throat terribly bruised. It's so cold out here, and I feel so very exposed. Each thought is a bit wound up and confused. Distorted to keep the terrors away. Choppy and broken. Short. And unfinished. Never complete. Not entirely. The homes are watching. A lone figure passing by. Me. Why is no one else ever out? Maybe there's a reason for that. Do I welcome the danger? Do I dance in its face where it snatches me up and carries me away, taking me back to live in its dungeons only to release me again, and then hunt me down once more? Endlessly, endlessly, endlessly, tumbling in its cycle of endlessly endless spins? The trap I never escape. The fragile mind brought on by endlessly endless spins and tumbles and swirls and twirls-

"Why are you out?" a voice pierces the night.

The rolling comes to a halt, and I vaguely look around. Though I'm a bit disoriented, the talking voice manages to throw out a rope of sanity, and I grasp it between my hands, and allow myself to be pulled back to shore. It's like gasping for lungfuls of air, and it returns the life into my brain. The water is disappearing from my ears, and I can understand what they are saying now.

"at my house. Do you want me to get him? Are you hurt?"

"Yes." I say. And I begin walking again, towards Finnick's house. Kenin's name made up a section of the rope, and he is the one person I want to see right now. Wait, why did I say yes? I wasn't trying to tell Finnick that I was hurt. I thought, well, it's all jumbled still. Yes, I want to go to your house so I can get Kenin. That's what I meant.

He's at the table with a mug between his hands, but he's instantly at my side. One moment there, now here. Like a clip from my mind went missing. Where would it have gotten lost? Kenin seems like a person with unnaturally fast speed. Like a shark. But on land. Oh no, a land shark! This makes me giggle. A land shark. What a thing.

"Annie?" Kenin's asked several times now.

My head lowers out of the clouds, and I'm sitting across from him. "Yes." I answer.

He's shaking his head in anger, but he glances at Finnick and words his words carefully so the words don't give away the real words he wants to ask. "Were you coming back from Joln's?"

"Yes." He guessed correctly, unfortunately I have no prizes to give away. But on nights like these, there should be no prizes. Just sadness.

"Promise me that you'll stop walking through the village at night." Kenin says urgently.

It's not my fault that Derek has to ruin what should be a safe leisurely activity. "What if I don't have a choice? And sometimes it's so nice that," _I can feel the world breathing around me,_ "that I want to take walks. Away from here. You know, where water meets sand. There's nothing dangerous over there."

"But it's a dangerous walk to get there." Kenin refutes.

Without a sexual implication, Finnick suggests. "If you're that worried about her safety, I can walk with her. I prefer to sleep as little as possible anyway," he turns to me and says with a hint of teasing, "and you seem to wander around at night."

Two conflicting thoughts. Finnick seemed to offer his protection because Kenin is concerned, and Finnick also made a reference to that other night over a week ago. I'm struggling to keep up, but I think I'm doing rather well. Now it's just about being able to speak what I want to say.

A breath of air is my response. It's a start. Every time my mouth stops, I need to begin all over from scratch. They're waiting to see what I have to say. It's like I keep getting sucked under, and then I resurface. I need something to keep me afloat. Wasn't it Joln who I turned to? How many times has he left me alone now? Always so angry. And I tried to believe he understood, because sometimes he really did. But never all the way like how I wanted to believe. No different than the way he wanted to believe that I would show more emotion. We were both fools I suppose.

The tears in my bruised throat rise to my head, and spill out of my eyes. It's distracting because each wave of tears blurs my vision while I stare at the table. I hear Finnick ask with worry and an edge to his voice, "Did something happen on your way here? You do have some cuts."

Only Kenin and Joa know. And Derek. And me. "I fell down." _When Derek pushed me to the ground._

"Oh." Finnick says. "Well I guess it could be dangerous to walk alone. I can go with you so you're not by yourself."

Kenin is looking at me. "You need to stop walking at night." He's talking about how I leave Joln. And then he refers to my other defense. "And if you want to go for a walk, let me or Finnick know. Please?"

"Alright." I agree. The tears are still rolling down, but I manage to tell Kenin before the words disappear. "And I'll stop walking at night like this. I think Joln and I are over anyways."

* * *

_Finnick POV_

So that's why she's crying. It's starting to make sense now. I'm still a bit confused because she and Kenin were talking about how she needs to stop walking around at night, but if she wants to go for a walk to ask me or him. It sounds exactly like the same thing, but they both have a tendency to talk in loops so I've noticed, although Kenin has gotten better. As long as they understand each other.

"Do you want to talk about you and Joln?" Kenin asks, but I can hear in his voice that he's simply offering more than actually thinking she wants to.

"Not now." she replies. Probably because I'm here.

Kenin asks her, "Do you want to take a shower?"

He must know her well because that does seem random to ask, but she—I should remember her name since she is close to Kenin—so, _Annie_ nods her head. "Yes."

"Can she use your shower?" Kenin asks me.

"Sure." I reply, and hide my questioning tone. Their house is right next to mine, but maybe she's too upset to get much farther. "It's upstairs like your house. I have extra clothes in my dresser if she wants to borrow." Although again, she lives right next door. But Kenin doesn't seem to want to leave Annie's proximity. I can't help but wonder if he has feelings for her and she's just oblivious.

They go upstairs, Kenin's hand on her back, and I decide then, that yes, Kenin must have feelings for her. Why else would he be so adamant about her not walking alone at night? I personally can't think of any dangers, and I only suggested Annie having company because I could tell he was worried. Maybe he's afraid about her falling and getting seriously hurt. Makes sense. Annie must be clumsy. She had a lot of bruises when Kenin came back from the Capitol. Or could Joln be hurting her? There were a lot of bruises now that I think about it, and she did say she was coming back from his place tonight where she clearly had fresh cuts. Is that why Kenin also invited her to live with him? In an attempt to keep her away and safe?

I need to ask Kenin because I care about him, and he cares about Annie, so if Joln is hurting her, I should pay him a visit. Kenin is walking down the stairs when I get right to my point, "So is this Joln hurting her? Do you want us to stop by his place?"

"What?" Kenin asks in a tone indicating that what I just suggested is insane. Well, I do make mistakes. "No." He tells me emphatically, shaking his head. "Not that way. I'm not even sure if she's that upset about them breaking up."

"But she was crying."

"I said not that upset, not that she wasn't."

"And she's covered in cuts." I tell Kenin seriously. "You don't have to cover for him. I'm stronger than he is."

Firmly, Kenin tells me. "No, she fell down."

"But she was covered in bruises when we returned."

"From running into my door and knocking it down when she wanted to tell," Kenin abruptly stops, and his expression darkens, "to tell the news that I won."

This is why I ask. My imagination gets too wild sometimes and I can be hasty. "Oh. I see then."

Kenin observes. "Seems like quite a bit of questions concerning Annie."

"Well yeah, I was-" _Ohh, I see what he means. _"No." I say emphatically now. "I was only asking because you seem to care about her a lot and I have your back."

"She's family-" Kenin gets what I mean, "Not like that! Ugh, no. That's disgusting." He actually shudders. "I've been like a brother to her since I was a toddler. We both consider each other family. Nothing more." He genuinely seems appalled at the thought of them being more.

This must be a first for me because I can't recall ever misreading people this horribly. It also has to be one of the worst nights of just total misunderstanding. I begin to laugh. "Wow, we both thought."

Kenin is laughing too. "I know."

We eventually settle down, and I ask mainly because I'm curious. "Is she okay though? She did seem kind of dazed."

Kenin bites his lip. "I think she hurt her head. She'll snap out of it. She always does."

It sounds like there's more to what he's saying, but I don't press. There's a pause before I ask, "How are you doing?"

For the past few nights, Kenin has been coming over, using the keys I gave him—since I figured there would be many nights where he would need someone to talk to. Mags did the same for me. I resisted going over to her place for about as long as Kenin resisted coming over to mine. But we all end up needing to talk with someone who understands.

Poor Haymitch, he's alone in his house in an empty neighborhood. It explains a lot actually.

Sometimes it's not even about having someone to talk to; you just need someone to be there. That is what Kenin and I have been doing. There have been many hours of silence between us with only a few uttered words between hour intervals. I also remember doing the same with Mags. Now it's my turn to do what she did for me.

Kenin stirs his cold drink with a finger. "I'm angry. All the time. About everything." He breathes out heavily. "It's not fair to Yurol, I know that. But I am so angry with her. For not watching my game, for not supporting me, for not being stronger." The sound of defeat is thick. "I can't help but hate everybody because they have no idea what it's like. None at all. And they go on with their stupid lives with their stupid smiles while my life has been unfairly changed. And I can't just return to what was normal like they can." Kenin's voice is bitter. "I hate them for that."

He hasn't talked this much, so I don't say anything. Kenin continues. "I even hate you." I'm not surprised, and I know it's for the same reasons as Cashmere before Kenin says anything. "You seem so unaffected by what's happened to us. And it makes me incredibly hateful when you appear to be okay with everything. I mean, you willingly prostitute yourself. I know the reasons behind your actions, but I hate you for being able to make that sacrifice. Because that means you're well enough to deal with such an atrocious undertaking."

His voice gets softer. "And I hate myself. That's the worst part. I've never felt such self-loathing. I hate myself for killing those people, for taking it out on my family who I've managed to push away, for being so weak. I just want to die, and I hate myself for wanting to be that selfish because I really don't care about how it would affect other people. Not my family, not my friends, not you or Mags. I just want this to end." Kenin's voice is strained. "But I hate myself too much to end my life since that is what I want more than anything."

Unexpectedly, Kenin's face softens. "But I think Annie helps prevent me from taking action too."

"You don't hate her?" I'm surprised.

"No. She's the only one." He says.

My curiosity is too great. "Why is that?"

Kenin shrugs. "She's the only one, outside of the group of victors, who didn't expect me to be like how I was before the games. I scared her the first day we returned, but in the moments leading up to my breakdown, her eyes told me she saw how broken I was. That it was okay for me to be _that_ broken." He allows himself a faint smile. "She's terrified of all the anger she sees in me, but Annie stays. Even if it means she does that strange thing where she covers her ears. No matter how bad things get, when she really cares about you, she knows how to be there." Kenin adds. "Annie has been through a lot too, so she's fragile and it feels like she understands the deep damage which others can't."

I did notice that something about Annie seems damaged, but I can't place it. And I'm sure Kenin knows what, but I also know he wouldn't tell me, and I wouldn't ask.

We sit in silence for about an hour before the sound of my bathroom door closing reminds me that Annie is still here. _That was a long shower. _ My clothes are too big on her as she walks downstairs, and I can see that she's rolled the sleeves and pants up. Her hair is unbrushed, and it falls in wild strands all around her. These long strands frame the look on her face which is no longer dazed but lucid. Perhaps not entirely lucid, but lucid enough.

Kenin doesn't get out of his seat. "How are you?"

"Better." she says in a light voice. "Is it alright if I sleep on the couch?"

Kenin is looking at me because this is my house, so I respond. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll get some blankets."

I can't help but think when I return with the blankets and drape them over Annie who is asleep on her side, _This is a first._

* * *

_Annie POV_

"He won't even talk to me." Yurol sadly says. She's fidgeting with a clean rag. Folding it and unfolding it, twisting it and crumpling it. Anything to distract her mind. "Am I an awful person?"

I see dark bags beneath her eyes. "No, of course not." I try to make my voice tender, and I lean against the doorframe which leads outside where Yurol washes the rags. "Kenin has a lot to deal with but he'll come back. You and Joa just have to be there waiting for him."

Yurol's thin arms flex as she begins to roughly scrub a rag against the washboard. "What does he say to you?"

"Not much." She looks up not believing me. "Really. Most of the time we sit on Finnick's porch and cloud watch. Or we'll go to the cliffs by the beach and he'll scream at the ocean." I watch as Yurol puts a lot of body movement into scrubbing the rag. "He's very angry Yurol, and usually very quiet. The games changed him into a whole new person. It's like starting over from scratch and building something else with bits of the old pieces."

She stops scrubbing. But keeps her head down. "I imagined things differently if Kenin returned. Not this."

"Annie, get in here!" Binsen bellows near the front door which is right across the room.

I'm still looking at Yurol, and I whisper. "He knows that, you know? I think that's one of the reasons why he stays away. You can't keep looking at him like the boy who left here only last month. I love you Yurol, but you need to let that image go."

When I turn to face Binsen and see what he was hollering about, I understand the commotion. Apparently I've been making Finnick wait on me. Binsen is apologizing, "I'm so sorry Mr. Odair, here she is. I really hope you weren't waiting long."

"Nope." Finnick tells him cheerfully. "I'd just taken a seat when you saw me."

Relief is displayed on Binsen's face. "Very good then. Annie will tell you our menu and take your order."

Binsen gives me a look when he walks by, but doesn't say anything. Almost exasperatedly I go over to Finnick who's sitting at a table near the entrance, and ask once Binsen has gone upstairs, "Why are you here?"

"To eat." he says obviously.

"Fine." I sigh, but then think to ask. "How long were you really waiting?"

"Don't worry about it."

"That's not what I asked."

Finnick tilts his head, and stretches his arms in front of him. "Does it _concern_ you that I had to wait?"

I put a hand on my hip. "No. I was wondering."

The dark blue shirt that he's wearing allows anyone to see his muscle definition. He must always wear clothes which highlight his features, and he notices me observing. "You can feel if you want."

My face flushes because I think of that night in his bedroom. "Stop suggesting things like that."

He feigns my seriousness. "Stop looking at my body."

This is amusing to him, but I don't know what this is to me. Annoying? Not so much now since I've met him a few more times and accepted this is how he is. Inappropriate? Definitely, but again, it seems to be a part of his persona. Normal? I guess that would be the best description.

"Are you not going to tell me how long you actually waited?" I ask, not going along with his game.

Finnick gives a breathy laugh, "Several minutes. You were busy so I waited. Why is it so important?"

"It's not. I just wanted to know." I correct him. "Have you eaten here before?"

"Nope." He's about to say something when we both hear girls softly squealing in excitement several yards away.

We look outside, and see a group of them crowded together looking at us. One of them says, "Finnick eats there. Lets go inside."

"It's too obvious now, he's looking at us."

"All the more reason to go inside."

"Shh, what if he can hear us."

"You're so dumb, we're too far away."

"Lets just go, he flirts with everyone anyways. Maybe he'll talk to us."

"He's totally checking us out right now, we should definitely go inside."

They stop talking, and begin to walk over with composed postures. This, I find amusing. "You should come here more often, you'll boost our cliental."

Finnick raises an eyebrow. "You finally admit I'm attractive."

"What?" I did not mean it that way. A bad joke. Of course he doesn't find this attention annoying like how I do. "There's no point in even trying to argue with you, is there?"

He shrugs. "Not really. I know I'm beautiful."

I give a single sarcastic laugh and shake my head. "Whatever you say." The group of girls enter. "I'll seat them right next to you."

"Sounds perfect." Finnick replies patronizingly.

He's looking at me, so I roll my eyes and greet the group of girls. "Hello. So Finnick requested for all of you to sit with him."

The words have barely left my mouth, and all the girls run over to him, grabbing chairs, and attempting to shove their chair right up next to him. In seconds, Finnick's table is crowded with seven girls. It looks completely claustrophobic considering it's only meant to sit four, and I just know that he's not enjoying this.

Hiding a smile, I go back over there to tell them the menu. "Have any of you eaten here before?" It's a buzzing of several no's before the only sound is stifled giggles. "Okay, for soups we have seaweed, fish, muscle, oyster, or all of the above. To eat, we have all of the things I just mentioned along with crab, sea urchins, and sting ray. There's the seafood stew which has everything in it, the salty stew which comes with fish, muscle, and oysters..." I go over everything in the menu, and by the end the only one who's been paying attention is Finnick because his initial intention was to eat.

One girl says, "I'll have the seaweed soup." And the rest follow her order. Clearly these are _those_ kind of girls who eat seaweed soup seven days out of the week with a small portion of sea creatures for nutrition to prevent actual starvation.

There's a smile on Finnick's face, but his eyes seem to reflect that he's thinking the same thing. "I'll have the fish platter with oysters on the side."

"Alright, I'll put your orders in." I tell them, although Finnick is the only one listening. His smile twitches when all the girls begin to talk to him at once, but he looks away from me and gives them his attention.

I push the kitchen doors open, and don't look at Joln who is standing on the far end with today's load of seafood. Lance, our cook, senses our tension and keeps his eyes on me, waiting for the orders. "Seven seafood soups and a fish platter with a side of oysters."

"That's it?" Lance asks surprised. "I thought I heard a lot of people."

"There's seven girls." I explain.

He understands this statement, and begins to put seaweed in the boiling water. While that's cooking, he tosses a scaled and gutted orange fish into a pan greeted by sizzling oil. I get a tray of eight glasses and pour water in them all. I'm about to head back out with the drinks, when Joln stops me, and Lance pretends to be engrossed with the oysters.

"Can we talk?"

My shoulder is pushing the door slightly open. "Why?"

Joln gives me that look of disbelief as to why I would ask that. "Are you going to talk to me or not?"

"I have to get these drinks out there." I reply.

"I can wait Annie." he says impatiently which seems like a contradiction to his statement. But I figure this isn't the time to bring that up.

"Fine, go out to where Yurol is. I'll meet you there when I'm done."

I push the doors open, and walk back over to Finnick's crowded table. It's a challenge to set all the drinks down, but I manage. Finnick attempted to help but there were too many girls in his way, and none of them took notice of me.

"Finnick, do you think we're pretty?" A dumb brunette asks in an irritating voice.

Of course Finnick's voice is laced with seduction. "Absolutely. I was hoping you guys would come in here."

They all giggle, and I have to wait for them to settle down. "Is there anything else you needed?"

"I have a question." Finnick tells me.

"Go ahead." I'm not sure what he didn't understand about our menu.

He has a crooked smile on his face, and I just know I'm not going to like what he wants to know. His arm goes around this blonde who about faints at his touch. "Do you think I'm gorgeous?"

My arms cross, but I immediately undo this motion, and keep my hands at my side. "Do you have any questions about the menu."

Finnick wets his lips. "What if I am the menu?"

All the girls squirm in their seat, and lean over towards him like panting dogs. It's disgusting really. They have no shame. And this is all Finnick's fault, but I'm starting to believe it's how he deals with becoming victor. Kenin has changed in one way, Finnick maybe had certain qualities amplified. Besides, I've gotten used to his flirtatious comments.

"Not interested." I say and tuck the tray under my arms. "I'll be just outside that door if you guys need anything else."

Finnick begins to open his mouth to make another remark, but I turn around and walk out the door. Joln is outside leaning against the wall with an unhappy expression. "Why is he here?"

"To eat." I take the tray out from under my arms, and hold it loosely in my hands. "What do you want to talk about?"

Yurol glances up, but continues scrubbing the pile of rags. By now, she's used to Joln and I coming out here to have our _discussions_. Which is actually quite frequently now that I think about it. Why have I never noticed this before? Most of our time is spent fighting or him getting mad. Maybe I've needed him here and ignored this fact. But Kenin is back, and my mind has resumed healing. For the most part. I think it's a lot better. Plus, it's been a few days since Joln talked to me, and I've been handling things on my own. Going over to Finnick's house to talk with Kenin has been helping me, and I think it does him good too.

The morning after Derek happened, Kenin was sitting at the dining table with a plate of half eaten food in front of him. He was doing that thing I used to do where I would stare into space because my mind is playing a different scene from the one in front of me. It was interesting to be the one watching the small abnormal behaviors instead of being the one who experiences them. Kenin didn't notice me taking a seat next to him.

Like he usually did to me, I had to say his name several times before he came to. He had a distant look in his eyes. "Hey."

My hands pressed together. "How are you doing?"

I could tell he was returning. "Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?"

By then my mind had mostly unscrambled, and the repeating had stopped. "I'll be alright. It's not like I haven't gotten through it before."

Kenin's mouth tightened. "I'd kill him if I could. But I won through deceit."

It'd been the first time he talked about the games with me since his breakdown after the welcoming home ceremony. But I didn't want to press the subject unless he decided to bring it up. "I wouldn't want you to. He's not worth it."

"Yes he is." Kenin replied. "He's worse than the people I killed in the arena. Much worse. He deserves to die." Frustratedly, Kenin said, "But I'm not strong enough. If I was, he would be dead already."

I stared at Kenin so intensely, that he eventually turned to face me, and then I'd told him. "You're not a murderer. You don't have to be what you think the games tell you."

Kenin repeated. "He deserves to die."

Physically he was no different than the boy I knew a month ago, but mentally he'd been transformed. Kenin was always going to be different, yet it did not mean that he had to believe in what the games had forced him to become during its duration. "I'm not saying he doesn't. But you deserve more than destroying yourself over someone like him too."

There'd been a bitter smile on his face. "You know you're the only one aside from Finnick and Mags who's acknowledged that I'll never be the old me. I could tell on the day I returned that you expected no such thing."

"I know." I say softly. My fingers drummed on the wood. "They'll stop waiting for the boy who left and didn't come back. It's an adjustment for now."

Kenin shakes his head. "Whenever I see Yurol and Joa, there's this look in their eyes of hope because maybe I've regained what I lost. And I can see the hope die every time they understand I'm still me. The new me."

"They still love you." I reminded him. "And I do too."

We didn't say much after that because Kenin fell silent, Finnick came back from wherever, and then I'd had to go to work. And the past few days have been mostly silence, but I can see Kenin slowly recovering. Different of course, and that's perfectly fine as long as he gets better as the new person he is now.

"Annie." Joln says harshly.

"What?" I sort of snap out of surprise.

Joln shakes his head. "Are you even going to bother with listening?"

Had he said something before? I didn't hear anything. "Did you say something?"

"Damnit, you don't ever listen." His voice gets louder. "I've been here for you this whole time and you act like you could care less. I am so _sick_ of this."

Yurol's head is down, and I can see a small gnat flying near her face. I hate those gnats. They're disgusting and gross. If you leave food out another twenty will come. An exaggeration, I know, I just can't stand them. She waves it away with her hand without looking up.

I can see this in my peripherals, and I see her start a new rag when I ask, "Is this what you wanted to tell me?"

The light pink stain from berry juice on the white rag slowly seeps away while Joln tells me, "I was trying to apologize."

"It didn't sound like an apology." Very briefly, Yurol's hand freezes.

The sound of water sloshing around blends in with the faint sound of waves contradicted by Joln's angry voice. "Because you weren't listening when I was apologizing!"

A cool breeze comfortingly envelops my skin because Joln's anger has shocked me. I don't like it when we argue. I don't like it when he yells. I don't like this at all. Not one bit. Nothing to say in reply. Unsure if I even can. He's angry because he cares, but he doesn't understand. I understand his anger. It's just a one sided level of understanding though. We're over. There's no point in talking. Yet I'm here. But I'm done. With it all. Maybe I used him. Maybe that makes me a terrible person. Maybe he's known this long before I did. Maybe that's why he got angry all the time. Maybe he thought I'd come around. And I'm slipping away. Have slipped away. Not towards Finnick like he thought. Just away. To myself.

"Excuse me." Finnick's voice says to my left. My head is pulled in his direction automatically. "Can I have some more water?"

He steps back inside, and I follow him, leaving Joln in the middle of our—whatever it was. Finnick sits back down at his crowded table, and I get the pitcher of water off a table near the kitchen. He's holding his cup up, and I pour him another glass. "Thank you."

"Your welcome." I tell him, and all the girls are looking at me, their faces clearly waiting for me to leave. "If I'm not around, help yourself to water anytime. I always set it on this table."

Finnick carelessly laughs, although it sounds like it has a double meaning for some reason. "I didn't even think of that."


	7. Chapter 7: Out of Line

**Sorry it's taken me forever to update =/ been busy with summer courses and going out, thank you to everyone who's been reading and checking back to see if i updated. ENJOY**

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Out of Line**

_Annie POV_

"There's nothing left to say." I tell Joln outside of The Shack. We closed over half an hour ago, and it's getting late into the night where the streets will begin to clear and the predator comes out to hunt. "I need to head back."

Joln gently puts strong hands on my arms and quietly asks. "Why are you not even trying to fix things with us Annie?"

I pull my arms back and cross them because he is not Finnick. "You're always going to get mad about the things I do, and I can't help it. I'm not saying you don't have a right to get angry, but it's not going to change. We might as well end it while it hasn't gone too far."

The expression of hurt on Joln's face makes me feel as if I have plunged a knife into his heart. For a moment he is at a loss for words which allows too many thoughts to clash into one another in my mind. Joln and I have been together for nearly two years. But the fact I only care about him should tell me that he will never be the right one. If there is a right one for me. Would it be better to settle? That seems rather terrible. And extremely unfair to him. To both of us really. To stay in a not entirely committed relationship, at least on my behalf. We have quite a bit of history between us, and that does count for something. For what though, I can't say. None of it seems highly significant.

"Too far?" Joln asks. His green eyes look so sad and I want to run my fingers through his black hair, but it would send mixed signals. "Have you forgotten that I love you, Annie Cresta?"

_Oh right, there's that significant bit. _ I glance away because I can no longer bear looking at Joln's face. But the look on his face is imprinted in my mind while I stare at the little huts crowded next to each other, the pale lights illuminating the streets, all the people who I don't know walking around going about their business, and is that? Yup, that's Finnick sneaking out of some hut's window. The hut is towards the inner area of the neighborhood across from me so I think I'm the only one from the public area who's seen him. Another hut is partially blocking him from view, but I watch him spread his hands across the windowsill, lean in and kiss a young woman who closes the window after they've parted from a passionate kiss, and he turns around to walk away. The moment Finnick's eyes look in my direction, he is cut off by a hut.

Unless he's passionate about every girl he's ever been with, Finnick Odair sure knows how to fake emotions. Because from where I'm standing, the kiss looked real. But it's not my place to make assumptions either. Passion. Right, Joln loves me. This is a mess.

I face Joln again, and all I want is an out. He looks so sad despite us having not talked for another few days after our fight outside with Yurol there. Now that I'm trying to leave, Joln is trying to be extremely nice to make me stay. But I think I've reached the point of overstaying.

"I care about you, Joln." I don't move. "You know I do. But it's never going to live up to what you want from me."

He understands this is my way of telling him that I don't love him. "Then why did you stay with me all this time?" There's some anger in voice.

I tell him one of the truths. "I thought it would change before things ran their course."

Joln opens his mouth, but instead I hear Finnick. "Annie, are you ready to walk to the Victors' Village?"

I can't figure out why Joln sounds like Finnick until Finnick appears at my side. My body turns in his direction, "What are you talking about?"

Jealousy and annoyance fill Joln's voice. "We're in the middle of a conversation. She can walk on her own."

Finnick has this look on his face like he's sizing Joln up, but it's replaced with good humor. "I don't doubt her ability to do so, but Kenin wants either him or I to walk with Annie at night from now on. Her own personal escorts. Nothing against you." Although the way Finnick says the latter suggests that it really is. "And I need to head back now which means Annie needs to come with me as well."

Aloud I remember, "I forgot Kenin made me promise to do that."

Joln is glaring at Finnick, and I can tell he hates Finnick. His being here, the perfectly sculpted features, all the rumors everyone hears and knows about his reputation. Everything that Finnick stands for and represents, Joln hates. His eyes shift to me seeing if I'm actually okay with walking back with Finnick.

Joln must find a conjured up answer because he shakes his head, "Fine, we're done here. Don't come back to me when you find yourself completely alone and in need of someone. Because you will Annie, you're going to find yourself with no one there. And I'm done helping you."

He doesn't wait for an answer. He's turned around and walking in the direction of his house, but I see Finnick taking a step forward. Immediately my hand goes up and catches his forearm pulling him to a halt. Finnick's head snaps in my direction which does kind of scare me but I keep my composure. It's like I can see green fire blazing in Finnick's eyes and it's enough to set everything ablaze. Maybe he sees fear in my eyes because his expression softens, and the fire dies down into a spark.

We stare into each other's eyes for several seconds, and I can't explain it but I can see the moment he becomes calm just by his eyes. Finnick's eyes are now shining, and he looks at his forearm with a stupid grin. "Guess you eventually had to have a feel for yourself."

What is he talking about? My hand tightens around something firm. "Have a feel for what?" Finnick looks a bit confused, and he raises our arms so I can see that my hand is still gripping his arm. It felt so natural that I didn't notice it. But now my hand recoils in shock, and I feel my skin burn as if the fire from his eyes has transferred to me. "Stop suggesting things like that!"

Just as seriously, Finnick refutes. "You stop subjecting my body to being nothing more than a firm temple of beauty. I saw the way you looked at me when I was at the hut, and you just had to feel for yourself."

My mouth opens, but I have nothing to say. I was watching him, not looking at him. Stopping him, not feeling him. Whenever he implies I'm trying to get to know him the way most women do, it makes me incredibly...ashamed actually. I would be embarrassed of myself if I had no control like them, and it's incredibly pitiful that they fall for his lies. Does he really think I'd be so stupid? Or even interested?

I begin to walk towards the Victors' Village, and I hear Finnick walking beside me. I'm thinking about how Joln and I are officially over with our unofficial being together, but I still notice how all the girls glance at Finnick with lust and false love. He's grinning clearly gloating over all this attention and I can't stand to be in his presence anymore because now my heart is sad that I am alone.

Suddenly the entire world is flying by. People are gone in a blink of an eye, huts zoom pass me, someone is calling my name but their voice is falling into the distance, air is rushing in my ears; it feels good to run away towards someone familiar. There's a light in the window, the doorknob is cold, a door slams, and Yurol jumps to her feet completely frightened.

"Annie, what's wrong?" She asks loudly hurrying over to me.

Joa is at the table eating some kind of dessert, but his eyes are flashing with the worry of that night. To erase his fears, I simply say. "Joln and I are over. So I ran here."

Yurol wraps me in her arms, and I press my face into her hair. No, Joln is very wrong, I won't be alone. I have this family here for me. They're all I need. Quite honestly, I don't think I have room left for anyone else in my heart.

They're startled for a second time when Finnick bursts through the door, his hand tightly gripping the doorknob. He realizes his intrusion, but I must have been expecting him all along because I'm strangely calm. I did leave him and I could hear him chasing me, but I ran far ahead out of reach. Into Yurol's embrace, but now I pull away and face Finnick.

He's taking deep breaths, and he looks sorry. "I didn't mean to intrude. Um, Annie took off running and I had to make sure she was here. My apologies."

Finnick is backing out of the door when Yurol goes over to him. "Wait, please." He stops pulling the door shut, but doesn't say anything. Silence falls over us. Filling each gap and space so intensely that it screams. Ringing in our ears. I can't see Yurol's face, but I can see Finnick's. It's torn between loyalty to Kenin, but also wanting to talk with Yurol. This goes on for so long that I begin to wonder if I've gone deaf and just don't know it. But then Yurol whispers, "Thank you. For doing what I couldn't. What I can't. Thank you."

Though Yurol's vision may be clouded with the grief of losing Kenin while he's still alive, I can see that her gratitude has a profound effect on Finnick despite his countenance remaining unchanged. I see it in his eyes, in the way his body slightly stiffened, in the way his fingers loosened around the doorknob, in the air dancing with the dust particles. There's also some deep guilt perched on the corners of his eyes. Perhaps for Kenin spending all his time at Finnick's house instead of with his blood family.

Finnick whispers, "I'm sorry about your other brother. He was a good young man." Or not, so the guilt I see pertains to Minul instead of Kenin.

Yurol intakes a sharp breath, but she stops Finnick again who has begun to close the door. "You know," he slightly pushes the door open to see her face, "I don't blame you for Minul's death. I know what he did at Cornucopia, I could see it in his eyes. The way he looked into the cameras. The peace and calm. There was nothing you could have possibly done to help him." I can hear the smile in her tone. "He was very stubborn that way."

They both nod to each other at the same time on some level of mutual understanding, and then Finnick closes the door. Yurol turns around, and we both sit at the table with Joa. He's pushed his plate to the side, no longer hungry for chocolate cake with a beautiful strawberry in the middle.

Joa quietly asks, "What you said to Finnick, were you talking about how Minul got himself killed?"

"You saw that too?" Yurol questions, slightly surprised.

"I thought that's what he did. But Kenin blamed Finnick all the time so I wasn't sure what to believe."

I slide the plate with chocolate cake over, and use the fork to get a piece. "I think Kenin needed someone to blame. He has a lot more anger than any of us knew about."

Neither Yurol or Joa say anything because they're experiencing Kenin's blame and anger right now. None of us truly anticipated the extent of Kenin's anger. I knew he would be broken upon his return, but the anger was unexpected. However, unlike them, I was able to accept it at first sight. They've gotten better at accepting Kenin is different, but as long as they cling to the hope that his old self will surface, they'll never be close to him like they once were.

Joa frowns. "I miss him. It's like he never came back. When he sees us, he doesn't say anything. Even the screaming would have been better."

Yurol grabs Joa's hand. "He'll come around. He will." But her voice sounded shaky and unsure.

After they've gone to upstairs to sleep in their luxurious rooms, I've been sitting on the couch in the living room for about an hour when through the side window I see a light flicker on in Finnick's house. Kenin takes a seat at the table facing the window and within a minute Finnick is across from him. This is how I observe whether I should go over or not. And usually I will because Kenin likes having me there when he's sitting in silence with Finnick. Tonight is not the usual night though. His mouth is slowly moving and by the way Finnick's head occasionally tilts or shakes or nods, I know they're having a conversation. I pull a blanket over me and lay my head down sinking into the land of dreams and floating.

* * *

"Yes but it can't have too much salt. Last time it made my tongue shrivel." An annoying woman tells me.

I keep a smile on my face. "We can't regulate the saltiness of the seaweed soup. It's all natural."

She sighs like she's been very inconvenienced. The woman stares into the air probably trying to remember the menu. For some reason, she always comes back despite having a complaint about her last visit ready on her lips each time I take her order. And her complaints are ridiculous. She's the only one who's ever said the seaweed soup is too salty. Once she ordered raw oysters and sent them back for being slimy; raw oysters are supposed to be slimy! She got upset for being able to see the face of the fish she ordered. Apparently it was a huge deal that she had to shell the shrimps herself.

Her eyes flicker to the left, and her lips form into an ugly smile. "Darling," That's a first. "you know, the seaweed soup sounds splendid. Take your time with it." Definitely a first, she always complains about the wait.

"Will that be all?" I ask.

She's not even looking at me. "Yes. You may go."

_Thank you your majesty, I your humble servant will now scurry along like a tiny mouse who quivers in fear and bends to you every dema—well that explains a lot_. In the center row near the front, Finnick has wisely taken a seat at a two person table. No wonder the woman suddenly seemed distracted. Aside from the woman, there are three tables with all guys, and one table with two girls staring.

Finnick keeps his eyes on me the whole time. "Happy to see me?"

I've reached his table, and lean against it. "I should just say yes because whatever I say, you'll hear what you want to."

He chuckles. "I knew you would be."

"Exactly my point." I sigh and shake my head, but it does make me laugh. "Do you remember the menu from last time?"

Finnick tilts his head with exaggerated disbelief. "That was over a week ago."

"Okay, I need to put an order in and I'll come back to tell you about the menu. Would you like anything else besides water to drink? I can tell you the list of drinks now."

He leans forward, "Give me your favorite drink. Maybe we'll finally have something in common."

"It's a drink. Everyone loves my favorite. That doesn't count."

Finnick nods. "Yes it does. It's a start."

I give him that look where my eyebrows furrow together. "To what?"

Nonchalantly he shrugs with a grin, "To something."

"Believe what you want. I'll be right back." Finnick is smiling and nods since I've excused myself.

In the kitchen, Binsen attacks me with questions. "Why is Finnick Odair here? Does that mean he likes our food? It must mean that right? What did he order?"

Yurol is outside the back door washing rags—in the afternoon she washes them in the front, but now that it's night, it's safer for her to do it where multiple people from the kitchen can see her. Lance is dumping a handful of shrimp into a fish stew, and Joln has stopped gutting a fish. Jealousy is written all over his face, and I remember how it was this false assumption which led to our absolute falling apart.

Binsen is eagerly waiting my answer, and I haven't seen him this excited in awhile. "I need a seaweed soup, and Finnick wants the raspberry citrus pucker. I've only gotten his drink, I have to go back and tell him the menu."

Quickly, Binsen pours a chilled glass of the delicious sour drink along with a glass of water which he forcefully gives to me. "Hurry, get out there. Don't make Mr. Odair wait."

I'm on my way when I say, "He's just another person Binsen."

But Binsen gently pushes me out as if I needed the extra momentum, and I stumble a bit when I enter the floor. Finnick looks back at the small commotion, and I set the glasses on his table. He takes a sip of water, "I'm ready for you." I tell him the entire menu which seems like a waste of time because then he asks, "You don't have the fish platter or oysters?"

"Is that what you wanted this entire time?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you order that from the beginning?"

Playfully, Finnick puts his hands on his hips. "Why Miss Cresta, seems like an awfully a lot of questions. Could I just have wanted to hear the menu and maybe my mind would have been swayed?"

A bit defensively, I tell him. "I was just wondering. Plus you said, you didn't remember the menu."

"I did say that didn't I?" Finnick rhetorically asks. "Well, I need a minute to think."

I look around at the other tables, and everyone has what they want except the females in here because what they want is right in front of me. But everyone has their food or it's being cooked, all the glasses are filled, and no one looks like they're trying to wave me down. Which means, I have nothing to do except wait here with Finnick.

He presses his lips together, and reaches for the raspberry citrus pucker. I'm ready for him to make a smug remark about how we like the same thing and he knew it all along, but instead Finnick takes a sip and begins to cough. It looks a bit undignified because he's coughed the sip back into his glass and little drops have splattered him around the mouth. This doesn't seem important to him though, and he clears his throat trying to get rid of the taste.

Finnick then grabs the rag and wipes his mouth. "That is really sour."

"Everyone loves sour. It's our most popular drink."

For once there's no smile on Finnick's face, and instead he grimaces in disagreement. "Not me. I hate sour."

This makes me genuinely laugh because he was wrong. "I guess we're not so alike."

Finnick crosses his arms causing all his muscles to bulge. "On this one thing. There are countless other things we have yet to know about each other."

I put a hand on my hip. "What makes you think we'll get to know each other?"

His muscles flex when he shrugs. "I get to know all the girls. It's bound to happen."

"Not with me. I'm not stupid like them."

"I don't disagree, but even the strongest, or in your case, even the smartest fall." He flashes me a smile, and leans on the table with his arms still crossed. "Your not the only one who can't cross their arms, I feel dirty with the way your eyes keep looking over all my muscles."

My face grows hot because what Finnick said is true, but I wasn't devouring him with lustful eyes the way other girls do or the way he teasingly did to me that night in his room. "Do I intimidate you then? Surely a common girl couldn't make the famous Finnick Odair bashful. Not when he flaunts his conquests and body for all of Panem to see."

Finnick is still smiling, but one of my comments seemed to have rubbed him the wrong way. There's no physical evidence to support this feeling, but it's just that, a feeling. He slightly opens his mouth and lets out a one breath laugh, but he doesn't say anything. We look at each other for I'm not sure how long but it's interrupted by one of the guys at my table calling me over.

Right when I turn to leave, Finnick softly says so that only I can hear, "Please just call me Finnick. I know I'm not above any of you."

"I-" It unnerves me to see Finnick quiet in public like this. Sure when he came into Yurol's house yesterday, or all the times I've gone over and sat with Kenin. But never in public. "I uh," something comes over me and I place a hand on his muscular forearm, not caring if he decides to make a sexual comment later, "I never meant to suggest you thought such a thing." His arm feels incredibly hard beneath my fingertips. "You volunteer to mentor every year. It can't be easy, but you do it for Four." Sure I doubted him before and got annoyed by his cockiness, but Kenin came back and I've gotten to see how much Finnick cares. I also think of my comment to him when I was serving the peacekeepers. "I'm sorry for ever implying you were on par with the Capitol's mentality."

"Don't worry about it." Finnick tells me cheerfully, and like that his mood has lifted. "Although, please, by all means, move your hand higher if you're truly sorry."

I just tilt my head and give him a look, but then I slowly move my hand up and it is received with widening eyes in surprise. Then, I'm sure as a tease does, I remove my hand and walk over to the table which called me over. "How may I help you?"

"We're finished, can we get the bill?" a cute blonde with blue eyes asks.

I go over all their orders mentally and tally the bill, and then tell them a price. They leave a decent tip, and now I'm left with five tables. Purposely with a smile on my face, I avoid Finnick's eyes and go into the back. Where I'm greeted by a furious Joln. "What was that?"

"What was what?" I ask just as snappily.

"Don't play games with me Annie!" No one in the kitchen is looking at us. "I saw the way you talked with Finnick Odair. The way you touched him."

"His name is just Finnick."

He gets in my face. "I'll call him whatever I want. Finnick Odair the Capitol whore who has sex with everyone and has no shame. He'll screw you and leave you just like he does with everyone else. You're not special."

I straighten my body. "We're not having sex! And we're never going to." I throw my hands up. "Do you hear yourself? How ridiculous you sound? This is why we're over. For good. Because you couldn't control your jealousy which has no foundation. None at all."

Uncharacteristically, Joln tightly grabs my left arm. "We're over because your too damn broken to function properly."

What he says stings. I mean, really stings. Like poking the bruised wound which never healed correctly. Shock at what he said must be displayed on my face because he instantly looks regretful. But I've seen that look too many times now. I yank my arm back and it _whacks_ the metal doors, jarring my elbow and forearm. My entire arm has erupted in pain, but I do nothing to comfort it. Everything hurts at this point.

I breathe in deeply to subside the turmoil of emotions, and walk over to Lance. "Is the seaweed soup ready?"

"Yeah." He tells me, and hands me the bowl.

I turn around and Joln begins to say, "Annie, I didn't mean it that way. It came out-"

But I let the doors swing shut behind me. I deposit the bowl at the woman's table, who is still staring, and I want to slap her face for lacking control. Of course I feel bad for thinking this; I'm just so angry that I want to go to the cliff and scream at the roaring ocean which will drown out my pain. I just want to scream and scream and scream. How Kenin does. But I don't want him there. I don't want him to see me that way because he's still healing too.

While I'm walking back towards the kitchen, Finnick gently catches my left arm which makes me wince because it's still tender. He instantly lets go, "Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's fine." But I can't immediately wipe away the grimace.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

He searches my face and must see the lie, but he doesn't pursue. "Um, I have my order ready."

"Right." I completely forgot. "Sorry, you can tell me it now."

Uncertainly he tells me, "I'll have the shrimp stew with the yellow fish, and a bowl of seaweed soup." Then he adds, "Oh, and can I have a really sweet drink? Whatever you think is good."

I force a smile. "Of course. I'll put your order in and return with a surprise drink. One that's not sour."

He smiles, but it looks forced too. "Thanks."

I nod and head back into the kitchen.

* * *

_Finnick POV_

Everyone else was oblivious to the commotion in the kitchen, but sitting near the front allowed me to hear everything. The remarks Joln made, Annie's comebacks, and then the sound of her presumably being pushed into the doors because she was clearly hurt when I put my hand on her arm. This has caused my temper to flare because Kenin cares about Annie, and Joln has apparently hurt her. I can't believe she was with someone who would hurt her that way. It takes nearly all of my self-control to not kick the kitchen doors open and serve Joln a taste of his own actions—with a lot more aggression though of course.

My hands are clenched in a fist when Annie sets a purple drink on my table. "Are you okay?"

She's looking at my fists, and I reach for the cup forcing myself to unclench my hands. "Absolutely. I hope this drink is amazing." There's this smile on her face like she's in on some secret. I take a sip and the utter overwhelming sweetness of this drink floods my mouth. It's incredibly sweet, too sweet, which makes me instantly love it. My temper subsides with a big gulp, but now Annie's eyebrows are furrowed and her nose wrinkled with disgust. I set the cup down, "What?"

"You actually like _that_?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

She says obviously, "It's way too sweet for anyone to like."

_So that's what the smile was for. She thought I would hate this drink's sweetness_. "Not for me. Sweet is good. Really sweet is better. Too sweet is the best." I put on a flirtatious face. "So what kind of sweet are you?"

Annie puts her hands on my table and leans forward, softly whispering, "Sweet isn't my thing. I like bitter or sour. Complete opposite of you."

"Opposites attract."

"Not in Panem." Is her reply.

As if she's had enough of this fun, Annie takes her hands off the table and leans back. She just turns and walks away to check on her other tables, and again I feel like I'm left hanging. No further playful banter, no form of completion. I'm honestly quite stumped by the continuous turn of events with her. There's definitely something beneath all those layers, and that is not a reference to her clothes. It goes much deeper than that.

Although no one is talking to me, I shrug my shoulders and take another drink. Throughout most of the night there's no dialogue between Annie and I except when she puts my order on the table. She comes and goes, argues with Joln, comes back out, goes back into the kitchen, argues; by the time of closing I'm the only one left but I don't leave because I promised Kenin I would walk Annie home since he worries for her safety.

Annie walks through the kitchen doors with a tired expression. "We're about to close, do you mind if I give you your bill?"

I push the empty plate in front of me. "I'm stuffed. Tell me what I owe." She tells me and I put the money I get from the Capitol on the table. "Keep the rest."

Very slowly, Annie counts the amount, then recounts it, and then counts it again. "I'll get you change."

"The rest is yours."

"Finnick, I'll get you change."

Just as seriously, I tell her. "Annie, the rest is yours."

She puts her hands on her hips. "It's too much."

"Why?" I ask, and lean forward. She still hasn't removed my dishes.

Annie holds the money out. "You don't owe this much."

"I know, but it's the amount I'm paying for the food and for your services." I tell her with no hint of provocativeness.

It looks like Annie is about to protest, but then she puts her left hand down, and holds the money between her fingers. "Well, thank you..."

Nonchalantly, I shrug. "No problem." I add. "I'm still walking you home after you close."

Annie is about to say something, but then Joln bursts through the doors,. "I thought you said there was nothing going on between you guys."

She flinches—which makes me furious—and turns away from me. "What are you doing? I'm giving Finnick his bill."

"And then he's walking you home!" Joln angrily yells.

From the twitch of her hand, I just know that Annie is fighting with herself to not raise her hands to cover her ears. Which is an indication of fear, and I can't control my temper. "What Annie and I are going to do is none of your concern. From what I heard, you guys are over. Before you actually knew it was over." I give a taunting laugh and smirk.

"That's not it at all Finnick!" Annie protests, and I'm glad to see that her hand seems steady. She turns to Joln. "I told you yesterday that Kenin made Finnick promise that he would walk me home after all my shifts."

Just to screw with Joln, I add again. "And what we do after our walk is _our_ business."

Confoundedly, Annie turns to me and shoots me a look. "Stop it."

Joln angrily takes a few strides over to us. "How long has this been going on between the both of you?"

"There's nothing!" Annie says loudly at the same time as me when I say, "Awhile."

"Seriously, stop it." Annie repeats to me.

I'm still sitting down as Joln glares my way. "Keep out of this golden boy, Mr. Finnick Odair. You prance around with those disgusting Capitol women only to prove to all of Panem that you're the whore we all know you to be. You would _never_ be good enough for Annie."

The latter is true, I'm sure, even if I don't know Annie that well either. But something about Joln—the fact I'm almost certain he's the one who's been hurting Annie—rubs me the wrong way despite the countless remarks I've heard concerning my Capitol and Four escapades. To stand my ground, I stand up letting the chair grate against the floorboards. "From the beginning you were never good enough to be with her. It's little wonder as to why she left you. So detached and emotionless and uncaring. Does it actually seem like Annie misses you?"

* * *

_Annie & Finnick POV_

~There's a loud _slap_ and my hand stings with pain.

*My cheek has erupted in fire, and for a moment I'm confused as to what just happened.

~Finnick's cheek is bright red, and he looks confused. Almost startled by this contrast of color on his face, I look at my right hand and see that it too is bright red. It's throbbing, but I realize what I did.

*Annie slapped me. Literally slapped me in the face only seconds ago. She looks shocked by her action, and now she is looking away from her hand and back at me. The shock quickly turns to anger.

~I am so furious at Finnick. All the things he said about my emotional capacity towards Joln were true, but those were things I never said aloud. Didn't dare whisper in the heart of night. Not even in the privacy during my loss of contact with reality. Yet he was able to pinpoint all of it so exactly. Like he saw through everything I thought I kept so well hidden. Especially the fact that I don't miss Joln, because rather I miss having someone there. And then Finnick brought it into light for the one person, who I intended to never tell, to see.

Bitterly I say in a low voice. "You had no right to say any of that. None at all."

*She's mad that I told Joln what seems obvious about her feelings regarding him? There's no way he could not have know this. I've been able to see this in her without actually being a real part of her life.

I open my mouth unsure of what to say, but Annie beats me to words as she screams. "You were completely out of line! This is my life, not yours!" she thrusts her right hand down in a fierce gesture. "How dare you pretend to know me! I am _not_ one of your brainless lovers who will submit to tolerating your absurdities _Finnick Odair_!" I almost wince at her screaming my entire name because we both know this to be an insult in reference to me being proclaimed the "golden boy". Annie throws the money down on the table and several of the coins explode across the surface shooting in different directions. "You have no right to do whatever you want just because you feel like it!"

Yurol comes through the kitchen doors, and runs to Annie. "Annie, calm down, please."

~I'm about to continue screaming and screaming because I am not at the cliffs and this will have to do, but Yurol's hands on my arms bring me back from the edge where Finnick serves as the roaring waves. Vaguely aware that I am no longer holding the money in my left hand, I clench it into a fist and allow her touch to calm me. My right hand is stiff and tender in pain, and I think the fact that I can't clench it into a fist allows me to further calm down. My left fist slowly opens, and my harsh breathing has turned shallow. Only the three Denfeze's: Yurol, Kenin, and Joa, have the ability to reel me back in.

Much of my anger has died down, and briefly one thing comes to mind. Although Joln and Yurol may have already considered this, I think of how—I've never displayed such an outburst of emotion; it's not out of care for Joln, something more along the lines of having to do with Finnick. What? I can't figure out. But the little remaining anger almost immediately sweeps this thought away.

*Annie has visibly calmed, and I feel it's safe to say, "I'll wait outside."

The pain has subsided in my cheek, after all, I endured worse in the arena—the thought briefly pierces my mind because I try not to think of those weeks—but I can feel the skin on the left side of my face stiffening.

Right when I'm turning to leave, Joln loudly tells me. "You do that, no one wants you here."

Always the outsider since I won. A fact that I have always known and felt even if most are blind to it. So I'm surprised when Annie comes to my defense. "I am not on your side either, Joln. You don't get to talk to him like that because you're the only one here who wrongfully has a dislike for Finnick."

"And what? You dislike him for the right reason?" Joln shoots back.

I am curious as to what Annie has to say. She shakes her head, "I don't dislike him, I'm angry at him. There's a huge difference Joln. You always come to the wrong conclusion and never think otherwise."

I now have the feeling that the topic about me has implicitly turned into a statement which extends into their previous relationship.

* * *

_Annie POV_

Joln constantly assumed he had a reason to be jealous of Finnick and that is really what drove us apart in the end. I'm sure I would have stayed with him longer than I did had he not let the redundant rise of jealousy provoke him into saying and doing hurtful things. It does seem rather ironic now since Finnick is in the same room as us. And he is still here despite previously saying he was going outside, but as if he knows he's no longer the topic of the conversation, he does leave and close the front door behind him.

Yurol's hand is clasped in my left as Joln scornfully says. "Be happy with him Annie."

He walks into the kitchen, done with this, and I think of how right I was in pointing out that his conclusion, of something between Finnick and I, being wrong yet he never believes differently because the statement he just made has everything to do with his wrongful jealousy. I let out the breath I've been holding, and Yurol gives my hand a light squeeze. "Are you okay?"

Parts of my head are still spinning, there's an annoying throb in my right palm, but Yurol is here for me. "I am now. Thank you." I lean my head against her shoulder.

We don't do anything for a bit, and then in a playful yet nervous voice, Yurol says, "I've never seen you like that."

She's concerned, and I reassure her worries. "I didn't know I was capable of such anger." I let out a faint laugh. "I'm glad it's a first. Hopefully the last."

Yurol lightly kisses my head. "Sometimes it's nice to let yourself be angry." She freezes in realization. "That's what Kenin's doing isn't he?" There's a clearer sense of understanding in her voice. "He's trying to get all the anger, that he possibly can, out before wanting to see us again."

I nod. "I think so. He'll always be different Yurol, but he's trying to recapture the person he used to be as best he can too."

Guilt fills her next words. "Neither Joa or I understood him."

"It takes time Yurol. He knows that."

* * *

_Finnick POV_

Several girls and women have passed by in the time I've been waiting for Annie, but tonight I haven't attempted to pursue their longing stares. I could tell myself it's because I promised Kenin to walk Annie home, that I should also walk Yurol home, but I'm really just not in the mood for that excitement. A first definitely, yet I can't bring myself to care enough about this apparent loss of libido. Besides, I'm confident I'll regain my sexual prowess by tomorrow. Tonight though, an unexplainable part of me feels too tired for such mindless games.

My cheek is uncomfortably stiff, but I feel worse inside. What I said must have really upset Annie because I never thought she capable of lashing out especially with the amount of force she unloaded onto my face. There's certainly a fight in that girl, perhaps one she does not even know about. She just seemed so timid and lost sometimes, and now I believe she's stronger than most people expect.

The front door to The Shack opens, and Yurol then Annie step out. Annie sees me, and monotonously says, "Let's go."

I shake my head. "We need to go somewhere else first."

"I'm not following you on some conquest Finnick."

"It's not like that." I tell her. "I promise."

Yurol is looking at Annie waiting for her response. Finally Annie agrees, "Fine. But if it's some stupid errand, I will not hesitate to walk the other way."

A smile forms on my lips. "Got it. Let's go."

We all begin walking, and Annie asks. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

She stops walking. "I mean it, I am not in the mood to stupidly trail you around."

I turn back and face her. "And I promised you that's not what we're doing."

Annie gives a small _humph _but resumes walking with me as Yurol stays between us as a buffer. For the next several minutes, all of us walk in silence until I smell the air become noticeably saltier. Their shoulders begin to relax, as I'm sure mines do the same, and slowly the tension among us disappears. The ocean has always had soothing powers over the inhabitants of Four, although many fail to recognize this due to desensitization of having been in Four their entire lives. But the first time I returned from the Capitol, I remember so distinctly how the smell of the ocean kept my mind at bay. It is my sanctuary when I feel my mind begin to wander beyond the borders of my mental capabilities.

The firm ground turns grainy, and then there is nothing but sand beneath our feet. I stop at the shore where the tip of waves stop right before meeting my shoes. I'm taking my shoes and socks off when Annie asks. "What are you doing?"

I walk onto wet sand, and roll up my pants. "Come on, the saltwater will help your hand."

Yurol kicks off her slippers, clearly eager to feel the water, and Annie slowly removes her own. She walks towards the ocean letting the waves come up to her knees, not caring that her dress is getting soaked. A sigh of satisfaction escapes Annie's lips as she dips her hand in the cold salty water. I move forward too, scoop up some water with my left hand, and apply it to my cheek. Relief is instant. Cooling, refreshing, burning, but it passes into a feeling of healing.

Yurol has walked several yards along the shore, and her footprints disappear every few seconds. I'm watching this constant starting over when Annie talks to me. "This was a good idea."

She started the conversation, and I should do what I should have done a while back. "I'm sorry I provoked you into needing this. I was out of line like you said. And it was none of my business. I apologize for intruding."

Annie's long brown hair blows behind her shoulders, and the moonlight gracefully falls perfectly on her face. She looks rather exotic in the water with the moonlight causing her to glow. And the expression of regret adds to the whole image. "I'm sorry for slapping you. I was out of line with that. You didn't deserve to be hit."

"I deserve it." I tell her. But I'm not just talking about the slap. Though Annie may not know it, I'm speaking a truth I've only told to other victors. I deserve every bad thing given to me because of: all the tributes I killed, all the tributes I let from Four die, for giving Four an unfair advantage at the cost of other districts' children's deaths, for taking pleasure in sleeping with some of the Capitol women to selfishly help me cope, for sleeping with countless girls and women in Four, for allowing myself to cope, for breaking their hearts after feeding them lies, for doing the little good I do out of want of outweighing all the things I'll never forgive myself for. In the end, I'm simply selfish.

Annie must know I was deep in thought because she only speaks when I've stopped staring at the waves and turn my head to face hers. "You did not deserve it." she speaks with such conviction that I find myself wanting to believe her. Softly she reveals, "I wasn't actually mad about you becoming involved with Joln and mines affairs. There was this look of concern on your face prior to everything, so I knew you were just trying to help."

This feels like a trap, but I can't resist. "Why were you mad then?"

"Because what you said was so," she stops.

"Thoughtless." I finish for her. "I know."

Annie shakes her head. "No. It was so true." she gives a small laugh of faint disbelief. "I could barely admit those accusations to myself because it meant I was a terrible person."

She thinks that of herself? It's completely invalid. "You're not a terrible person. We do what we can to make it through."

Her green eyes look over me, but not in the physically observing manner as she's done before, it's as if she's assessing me as a human being. Annie clasps her hands together and lets her arms hang loosely in front. "That sounds like a good reminder for _everyone_ to take into consideration."

Is she talking about me? Does she somehow see the self-loathing? Am I not a terrible person for coping in my own way? Somehow she's gotten me to believe that the answer is yes and should be yes to all of the above.


	8. Chapter 8: (Nightmare)

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed! Glad to know my story is greatly appreciated =] and thanks for everyone who also just comes by to read it, it's nice to know my story is getting out there. i know a lot of people on here update quite frequently, so i apologize in advance for any times it may take me a significant amount of time to update: it takes a lot of time to write, i'm busy, and sometimes you just need time to think. ENJOY! (ps: this chapter was going to be longer, but it just came out to the next part fitted as being a new chapter. so i'm working on the chapter 9 already)**

* * *

**Chapter Eight: "Nightmare"**

_Annie POV_

"You don't need to do this Kenin." I repeat for the countless time almost pleadingly.

Without falter, he continues walking with his head held high and arms stiffly swinging at his side. There's no sign of the broken boy next to me. To the rest of Four, Kenin looks completely fine. Many of the people are looking at us, and smile or wave. All the females, mainly because they're fascinated with the sight of two good looking tributes walking in the streets. But the males acknowledge the two tributes out of respect, and perhaps a few do for the same reason as most of the females. Everyone is grateful for Kenin's winning as it brought about a surplus of food and gifts. Everyone except for a few families, and one in particular.

Finnick is wearing a white shirt, which drapes his muscles, and black pants. Though he may not know it for this time only, as I'm sure he usually does this under different circumstances, his clenched fists are causing his muscular forearms to stand out more definably with the veins protruding and running up to his biceps. Unruly tousled bronze hair shakes with the motion of Finnick's head, "There are other ways to punish yourself Kenin. This is one of the worst."

But Kenin keeps walking. Not talking to either of us. His shaggy non-uniformed black hair falling in different directions, blue eyes ablaze contrasting greatly against the blue sky above, and fierce determination with each step. It's good to see him so strong, frightening too because again he looks like a Career, but I'm also afraid for him because this bravado has the thickness of a fish egg. One poke and all the ooze inside will spill out with no way of scooping it up and stuffing it back inside the collapsed gelatinous container.

We near the neighborhood of Sally Walsh, and this time Finnick goes in front of Kenin, firmly putting his hands on Kenin's shoulders. "This is your last time to turn back. Think about it."

With the fish egg concept still in my head, worriedly I think, _Don't hold him too hard, you might cause him to burst open._ However, Kenin challengingly replies in a low voice. "Get out of my way."

Finnick hesitates for a second, and then his hands release Kenin who immediately walks into the maze of huts, and we follow. While we follow Kenin, our eyes meet and I take in the utter blast of green in Finnick's eyes. They're so unnaturally bright, and I find myself wanting to stare into them because it feels like there's something to uncover beneath. Almost magnetically pulling, all that's around, towards it until you're sucked down deep inside, but not in the bad way I'm used to experien—next I'm stumbling, and Finnick's arm snaps out and catches me with a surprisingly soft grip.

"Careful." he says to me with a hint of teasing.

Kenin, who I bumped into, kindly tells me. "We're here."

That's why we've stopped while I wasn't paying attention. We're standing in front of a door, and I stand next to Finnick with Kenin in front of us. Kenin reaches out and knocks two times. This hut is the same as the ones surrounding it, as the ones in all the neighborhoods, as the ones we used to live in before moving to the Victors' Village. A soft sob comes from inside, and the sound of feet shuffling against a sand layered floor approaches the door.

It feels like the circulation in my left arm is being cut off, and I stop breathing as the door opens. Beside me, Finnick has completely stiffened. Only Kenin seems calm upon seeing the distraught faces of Sally's family. A mother, father, an older sister past the age of reaping, and a brother just the age for the reaping. Their faces are in shock at seeing the boy who killed their beloved, and it quickly morphs into hatred.

"You killed my daughter!" the mother spats out with great contempt. "Four should have ostracized you for turning your back on your own district partner!"

_But Sally had planned to kill Kenin from day three with the poisoned food, she's the one who initially turned her back and turned traitor._ To my surprise, Kenin doesn't bring this up. He agrees, "They should have."

Even Sally's mom appears at a loss for words upon Kenin's agreement, and the father sadly asks with far less hatred. "Why have you come here?"

For a few seconds, Kenin doesn't say anything, and he musters all the sincerity within. "You had a lovely, highly intelligent, and I'm sure under different circumstances, a kindhearted daughter. I'm the one who killed her, the one who brought upon Sally's death, and for that I wanted to say how sorry I am even though it will never be enough. This isn't for me to relieve any guilt because I'll live with that forever, but I wanted you guys to know that I am sorry for causing such a waste of a meaningful life. So that you guys at least know I _am_ sorry, and I know how wrong this whole situation is."

Sally's mom rushes away to a bedroom, and her sister brings a hand up to her mouth leaving shortly after too. Sally's brother bitterly rejects Kenin's apology, "You're the murderer of the worst kind for killing one of your own. They should have never forgiven you."

With that he leaves, and only Sally's father remains. He speaks after all the doors in the hut have shut, and even then he speaks in only a whisper racked with rage, grief, and forgiveness. "One day they will see that Sally intended to kill you from the beginning, and you were acting in defense. Our Sally was very clever that way, and very hardhearted to anyone she did not love. A part of me will forever despise you for killing my child, but each tribute is a part of a family and that I also understand. Go back to your family and be glad you returned."

Saying no more, Sally's dad closes the door and leaves us outside. While his latter advice seems easy enough and natural, it's one of the main struggles Kenin has. Neither Finnick or I move—although my arm is strangely hurting—because we're both waiting for the next move to come from Kenin. He's staring at the door, and as the tension in Finnick rises, the pain in my arm eventually becomes unbearable but I don't want to move. It's so painful though, and a whimper of pain escapes my lips.

Kenin whirls around, and his eyes widen. "Finnick, what are you doing? Let her go!"

Both of us are alarmed by the excitement in Kenin's voice, and now it feels like my arm is going to snap. I bend over in pain, and then see that Finnick's hand is still around my left arm, except he's crushing it between his grip. There's horror in his eyes as his hand recoils and he stumbles back.

Finnick seems frightened as he stammers. "I didn't realize—I'm sorry." repulsion is on his face, and he takes off in the maze of huts.

"Are you okay?" Kenin asks, his hand on my back.

"I'm fine." I tell him, holding my wrist, not wanting to touch my tender forearm. "He has a fierce grip."

Kenin disbelievingly states, "That's unlike him. Why would he hurt you?"

"I don't think he realized he was hurting me." I confess, "I didn't know he was still holding my arm the entire time."

I can tell Kenin is fighting with inner doubts, but finally his face relaxes. "You're right. None of us really recover from the games. I think this was hard for him too."

We begin walking out of this neighborhood with no Finnick in sight. "For him too?"

"Yeah. He's never met the families of the dead children."

We're back on the streets, and I face Kenin. "He's met you. And everyone else."

Kenin shakes his head. "He didn't meet us by choice. I was reaped, and I'm a victor now. It's different. Besides, he never goes over to our house. He avoids Yurol and Joa at all costs."

That is true. The only time Finnick ever went over was when he chased after me that night I took off. With Kenin, it's easy to see the anger and damage. But with Finnick, well I never put much thought into it before. He always seemed so composed and outgoing, completely unbothered. Only on occasion in the privacy of his home or that instant in The Shack and that time on the beach have I ever seen him differently. His pain must be well hidden.

"He just appears to be better than he is?" I ask.

Kenin is thinking about something. "In some ways Finnick is better off than most of the victors which is why he can do the things he does and act the way he does. But his personality helps him avoid a lot of what we endured too, and avoidance is the best survival."

"Survival." I repeat. "You still feel like you're in the games?"

"All of us do in some way Annie. As long as the games continue, it never really ends for us. Another year, another Hunger Games, more dead tributes, more celebrating, another year, another Hunger Games, and so on. The Capitol has a hold over all of us in one way or another."

My hand wrapped around Kenin's. "We're here for you to help you get through it as best you can."

"I know." Kenin gratefully replies. But he gives my hand a squeeze, and takes his hand back. "I would like to be alone for now though. I'm better, but am far from okay."

I nod in understanding. "I'll see you later. If you need me, I'll be at the ocean probably."

He looks at me questioningly, but simply nods and begins walking in the direction of the Victors' Village, to Finnick's house no doubt. Finnick's house. With this thought in mind, I double back and make my way to the ocean where the air is alive with salt.

* * *

"I thought I would find you here." I say to a startled figure sitting on the edge of a cliff—one I frequently visited in the past.

The sadness in Finnick's eyes takes me by surprise, but I keep moving forward going against the urge to turn around. I'm scared being here with him maybe because it feels so real since I'm used to the other Finnick, the one who has a conceited demeanor and flirtatious body language. The one who seems to have no care or regard. The one who has a snappy remark ready for any conversation. Not this one. Not the one who is unable to hide the torment. But isn't that why I came? Because I knew this is what I would find? The one I would find?

His eyes are on my deeply bruised forearm. "How did you know where I would be?"

"Well," I say taking a seat next to him and letting my feet dangle over the edge, "this is where I came when I had things to deal with. And when we came to the beach a few days ago, you looked at this place like it brought great relief."

"It does." he softly says. Finnick looks out to the ocean, "Sometimes it's nice to have a continuous sound fill your mind."

He bites his lip as if he didn't mean to say this, but it's something I understand very well. I nod, "The waves are good fillers to prevent certain noise inside."

About fifty feet below, huge waves are crashing against the rocky cliff and white foam sprays up falling many feet short from reaching us. The water churns, is sucked back out, then rushes forward to slam against the rock. Almost like a constant battle of strength where the rock stands triumphantly, and the water wins with the wear and tear of time.

Above, the blazing sun has heated everything outside of the shade, and my skin grows warmer with each second, eventually it will become darker as the minutes pass. It's a nice day, and with this beauty one can almost feel like there is nothing but nature and peace, but to our backs lies the truth. We're in Four, meant to serve the Capitol, ruled by the Capitol, several of us destroyed by the Capitol, but for now, Finnick and I can enjoy this; this, what is in front of us, and that is the roaring ocean and salty air.

It should seem strange to be here with Finnick, the breathtaking tribute of Four who the Capitol adores. Rather, it feels very natural. Meant to be. He became a part of Kenin's life, and I am a part of Kenin's life. Naturally our lives were bound to entwine in some way after these set of circumstances. And to me, he's not the heart throb to be appraised. Finnick is just another person, a young man, victimized by the Capitol as Kenin was. Before everything, he was a face I knew from the screen and around Four, I a faceless person among the sea of people, and now, well, a lot has happened since.

My mind drifts back to sitting on the cliff as I notice Finnick's head turn down to look at my arm. His lips tighten, body gone rigid, filled with needless guilt. I hold my arm in front of his face, "Need a better view?"

Finnick's lips part in shame, and he sounds upset at this question. "It's not a laughing matter."

"Neither is it something for you to feel bad about." I counter. I run my fingers over the darkening purple hand mark. "It wasn't intentional and it'll be gone in a week."

"But I'll know I'm the one who made those bruises."

"Unintentionally." I tell him adamantly. "Stop feeling bad for yourself."

He's annoyed. "I don't feel bad for myself. I feel horrible for doing that to you."

"It's the same thing. You, yourself, feel bad, and you shouldn't."

Finnick shakes his head, and angrily says. "You don't understand."

Of course he's right, but his view is biased too. As I see so often in Kenin, Finnick is trying to accumulate feelings of blame and guilt as punishment. But Kenin has me to negate these actions, who does Finnick have? I hold my arm in front of Finnick, "You grabbed my arm so tightly that it caused all these dark purple bruises. The purple will turn green and yellow until it fades within a week. But you hurt me and caused me great pain. It still hurts. You did this. You." I say moving my arm towards him. "And you know what, I'm saying that it's okay. You were in another place in your mind while Kenin talked with Sally's family, the family of the tribute who died under your mentoring. All the bad that has occurred was not by your doing, not your fault, or was unintentional. You don't fool me Finnick Odair. Kenin tries to do the exact same thing and I don't let him, and I won't let you. Especially after all you have done."

Sharply he asks, "Did Kenin tell you?"

Quickly I reply, "Tell me what? That you never visited a tribute's family before today? He told me that..."

His face falls, and he apologizes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to speak to you that way. I just—needed to know." Finnick sighs, "Thank you, for being here." He gives a bitter laugh, "I promised Kenin I would try and get through things with him, and while he's been making progress I'm the same as ever. Guess I couldn't keep my end."

"You can start now." I say.

Finnick slowly nods and says with consideration, "We'll see."

I nudge his shoulder with mine. "That's already a start."

He smiles and softly laughs, but stays quiet looking out towards the ocean again. I do the same, and watch the various boats drift across the surface. The people look like small twigs I find on the sand, and I can see the nets being hauled on board and thrown out to sink beneath the water. Whatever they catch, a good portion will go to the Capitol, but they're allowed to keep at least one-fifth of the catchings. Which calls for the need to excessively catch sea creatures for prolonged periods of time. Like how Joln was always away for weeks at a time. Joln. I'm not sure what to think about this thought.

They needed him. He, that guy, needs them! There's splashing near the shore, far away enough that he can't get back, and far away enough from the boats that they don't see him. "Finnick!"

Secretly high strung, Finnick jumps to his feet, stance ready for danger. "What is it?"

I scramble to my feet, and begin running from the cliff's edge, back to the land which has shore access. "That guy is drowning!" I trip over rocks and various loose footings, all the while screaming in the hopes that the guy will hear me and keep treading, "We're coming! We're coming! Hold on!"

Desperation strains my voice, and I think I'm still screaming but I honestly can't be sure which in itself seems like a contradiction. Drown, drown, drown, deep dark dead, drown, drown, drown—Finnick yells from behind me. "Don't stop! I'm almost there!" Can he even hear us? He's looking in our direction. We need to save him! Wait, Finnick's voice stopped the oncoming mental instability. Mostly, I'm not sure if I'm still screaming.

Before my mind knows what I'm doing, I'm leaping over these rocks and soaring through the air as if it were water itself, am I flying? _Nope_, I think as my body falls onto soft, but condensed,so actually hard sand. For a split second I lie here stunned, feeling the panic of all the air being forcibly pushed from my lungs, and I'm near sobbing/gasping for air as I get to my feet and run into the water. But the moment the water rises to my chest, I begin shrieking in fear, clawing at the water to get it away from me, and I have to turn back.

Finnick leaps from the rocks landing near my body imprint in the sand, and gives me a concerned wonderingly look before he dives into the water as I drag myself back to shore. Am I still screaming? My mouth is opened wide while I watch Finnick effortlessly take long strokes to the guy, but then the guy sinks beneath the surface and I know for a fact that then, I give a loud piercing scream of horror. To drown: to have any sort of liquid seep in through your nostrils filling your lungs until your supply of air is cut off leaving you to suffocate in darkness and pain where the reality that we know of dry air is consumed with the overbearing thickness of liquid and your body becomes trapped in a slow bubble of enclosing—Finnick's head breaks the surface and next to him is the guy being heaved up into dryness. Air. Life.

The screams have stopped? With one hand, Finnick holds the guy and strokes with the other. It takes a bit longer, but he's back on shore rather quickly. I might be sobbing uncontrollably, but I manage to help Finnick drag the guy on shore, who actually is a very young boy. Perhaps a bit younger than Kenin, he smells of spirits, and he's not breathing. Though there may be no relation realistically, my mind draws parallels: young boy, spirits, possible drowning. Baby brother, father, mother. It's almost too much for me to handle.

Finnick's head is pressed to the young boy's chest, and I can hear my cries of sorrow filling the air. The cries sound awful, ragged, rough, deranged, persistent, but I can't stop it. It's as if my body will not allow me to take control of these foul sounding cries, and nothing can stop—then, so suddenly, so shockingly, so contrastingly profound! I see Finnick press his mouth to the boy's, and for a moment, it looks so strange to see Finnick's mouth pressed to another male's... And then the boy's chest begins to rise and lower as Finnick blows air from his lungs into the boy's. This continues for about a minute, in which time I've noticed my crying has stopped, and then the boy sputters water into Finnick's mouth, who good-naturedly slightly grimaces and spits the water onto the sand.

The boy falls into a fit of coughing, but is alive and breathing! Overcome with joy, I lean over the boy and embrace Finnick in a hug, holding him close, with my face pressed into his shoulder. He stiffens, but then I feel his body relax, and his arms on my back returning the hug. I now softly cry into his shoulder, "Thank you for saving him."

He whispers back softly, "You don't need to thank me."

I want to point out that he should accept my gratitude, that he deserves to be thanked, but that's a discussion for another time. I pull away from him, and see that I've left a bit of snot on his shirt sleeve. Laughing, I attempt to wipe it away with my hands, but it mostly smears. "You should wash that."

Dryly Finnick tells me, although there's a smile on his face as he looks down at his sleeve, "Clearly."

Beneath us, the boy feebly asks, "What happened?"

We pull back, and look down at the boy. Sternly Finnick says, "You almost drowned because you're drunk." The boy looks scared, and still dazed, so Finnick softens his voice. "How do you feel?"

"Awful, and a bit drunk." The boy admits.

I take his hand in mine, and push the hair from his face. "How old are you?"

"Twelve."

Anger is on Finnick's face, but before he can speak, I ask the question on his mind. "Why are you drunk? You're far too young to be drinking."

Tears begin to stream from the boy's eyes. "I hate it at the community homes! I just wanted to escape, and the grownups always seemed happy when they drank the spirits so I wanted to try it."

Hearing this causes Finnick's face to fall, all the traces of anger derived from fear are gone. Softly he says as if he knows from personal experience, "I know it's hard, but you have to stick it out. Things will get better, but getting drunk isn't the answer."

The boy sits up, and tells us, "But I don't know how much longer I can take it there. And I shouldn't volunteer until a few more years have passed."

"Don't volunteer." Finnick warns him. "It's not worth it."

"But you did!" The boy protests. "Isn't that why you volunteered? To escape the community homes? Everyone there talks about you."

That's right... Finnick did volunteer, and I feel like I've heard that he was from the community homes before, but it never seemed like a sound fact either because it was only something I'd heard. But the look of guilt on Finnick's face tells me that this boy has extracted the truth and thrown it in his face. Are the community homes so bad? Thinking back, when the Capitol came to interview for the Final Eight during the 65th Hunger Games, they only interviewed the staff at the homes. No family, no friends, nobody.

Now it feels like Finnick is purposely avoiding my eyes. His wet hair shakes and falls in a disarray, "Trust me, it'll be worth it to wait until you're sixteen. Then you can leave and make your own way. Just wait..."

The boy nods, and gets to his feet. With his hand still in mine, I ask, "What is your name?"

"Herfe." he tells me, and we begin walking up the rocks, back towards Four.

None of us say anything, and the boy begins to walk slower as we near the community homes. When they're in sight, Finnick confidently tells Herfe, "I believe in you, okay? I know you'll be strong enough to handle the hardships within those walls. Just don't volunteer. You'll be happy you didn't."

"Unless I'm reaped." Herfe says a bit too hopefully.

Finnick bites his lips, and I speak because he seems incapable of saying anything else. "It's not all the glory you think it is, remember that. Enduring the games has a great price Herfe."

He doesn't understand, but I hope he will someday, and with that he leaves. For a moment Finnick doesn't move, and he looks at the homes with great contempt. Then, he looks away and begins walking. I'm certain he's going back to the Victors' Village, so I follow him. I think he's not going to talk to me until, "That kid has _no_ idea. None at all."

I'm not sure what to say, so instead I ask a question about something I know nothing about. "Is it really that bad in there? In the homes, I mean."

"It is bad, but the games are worse." Without conceit, Finnick matter of factly says, "Most people can't handle the games as well as I do. Mags seems alright, but she's also had the most time to heal. Why do you ask? About the homes."

This isn't something I talked about with Joln at all, and I barely do with any of the Denfeze's but not only did Finnick save Herfe's life, somehow I feel..."comfortable"? If that's the right word. "When—" Will I be able to say it? He stops walking, but I continue because if I stop one thing, everything else will stop. Quickly he catches up, but I don't look at him. "Awhile back, I was supposed to be sent to the community homes, but Kenin's parents intervened and took me in. I never had to live through the horrors you or Herfe have. So I was curious about the homes' conditions."

"That's a generosity rarely seen." Finnick slowly comments, but I can hear that it's simply a filler for the words he truly wants to say, or rather, a filler for the questions he really wants to ask. So I'm glad that he's refrained from doing so because me saying that already feels like a lot to give away.

"It is." I smile. "They were kind people. You would have liked them."

"They wouldn't have liked me. Not after Minul died." Finnick says, putting himself down.

"Finnick..." I say, and I stop walking. He stops and forces himself to look at me. "It's not your responsibility to feel guilty for the deaths of Four's tributes. I know I'll never understand because I wasn't there mentoring them, but the Capitol is the one who brought about their deaths. Not you, not the other tributes, but the Capitol." His eyes are widening in horror. "I know they're probably listening, but what are they going to do? I'm not talking of rebelling, or declaring it to all of Four, I'm talking with just you. A personal conversation they know will not be repeated." There's fear in his eyes, but less than before. "You're a good man, no matter what you try to project otherwise, okay?"

Flecks of salt are in Finnick's hair and on his exposed neck, and with a tanned hand he rubs the back of his neck. This seems to relieve some tension, and he looks up to the sky. I receive no answer while he stares at the clouds, and I wonder if he's looking to sky for an answer as I have done in the past. Finnick comes to a conclusion because he looks back at me, and seems to be taking in my face. "Ah but Annie Cresta, I am exactly the man I project for all of Panem to see. A far worse one than I am given credit for."

I shake my head, undaunted. "I see right through you Finnick Odair. Completely right through you."

He laughs, and walks with me for a couple hundred yards, before heading off in another direction. "I have some company to attend to." he shrugs as if trying to emphasize, "Told you I am _that_ man."

I shrug my shoulders to equally emphasize, "And I still see right through you. _Right_ through you."

We smile as we both go our separate ways.

* * *

The pillow is soft beneath my head, and green eyes stare intently into mine. Searching for truth, for comfort, for company. For so long these eyes have felt sadness and loneliness never seeking the companionship meant to allay if not heal all wounds. Always doing everything on their own. Well, for the most part with our help.

Yurol sighs and wraps her hand around mine. "Anything new with Kenin?"

I purse my lips together and think of the day. Kenin, Sally's family, cliffs, Finnick, an almost drowning Herfe. It takes every bit of self control to not shudder at the last thought. "He went to see Sally's family to apologize."

Her grip tightens. "What?"

My long sleeve is moving up dangerously high. "He thought it was the next best thing to do. I haven't seen him since then. But I'll go over tonight to check on him."

"Thank you." Yurol quietly whispers. With her other hand, she tucks a few stray hairs behind her ear. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Very slowly I relay what happened from the moment Kenin knocked on the door and faced Sally's family, to the angry remarks, sudden leaves, the father's rage yet understanding, and the comment about Kenin returning to his family. It takes several minutes because whenever Yurol looks lost in thought, I pause until the recognition of this world returns in her gaze. At the end, there are tears in her eyes. For Kenin's pain, for his grief, her own grief, and so much more.

A tear falls from her left eye leaving a single wet mark on the white sheets. "He hates me so much." she sniffles. And it makes my heart ache as more tears fall. "It's been over a month and a half since he's returned. I thought things would be at least slightly better for us by now."

"I know." I whisper with my voice just as frail. "I know."

Yurol wipes away her tears, and the movement of this causes my sleeve to slide down revealing the bruised hand mark. At first she's too busy wiping the tears, but as she tilts her head it suddenly snaps in the direction of my arm. "Annie! What happened!"

When Derek had attacked me, it'd been easy to say I fell down or did something clumsy. But this bruise is too distinct for a simple excuse of carelessness. Hastily, I push the sleeve up, "Nothing."

But Yurol isn't having any of it. Thirsty for blood, she shoves my sleeve up and examines the angry purple marks. "This isn't nothing Annie! Tell me, who did this!" Even I'm a bit stunned by the purple's deepness. It's so dark and unnatural looking. Finnick really has a strong grip. "Finnick!" she shrieks. "He did this! I am going to _kill_ him!"

Did I say that allowed? But I don't have time to ponder my ability of keeping my thoughts contained because Yurol has thrown the covers off, sprung out of the bed, and run out the door. Frantically, I chase her down the stairs. "Wait! No, Yurol."

Crazily, her head whips around. "No Annie! That is _not_ okay. I cannot believe you're actually defending him!"

It is so good to see something other than sadness in Yurol, something else that gives her a fire and renewal of life's energy. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to let her continue believing this falsehood. Just to stir up a bit more fight in the girl I usually see as utterly broken and tired. She needs to feel another emotion besides defeat.

Weakly, I unconvincingly say, "I'm not defending him Yurol, it's just..."

"I don't care if he's helping Kenin right now!" Yurol screams. "I will not allow him to hurt you like that!" She's completely belligerent, and I think of how it's a good thing Yurol did not see Joln grab my arm that night in the kitchen. She probably would have needed to be restrained from gutting Joln. Why is there this fight in her now? When Minul and Kenin were reaped, she was broken, but not angry.

It dawns on me that she's fighting now because there's something she can actually do about it compared to standing up to the Capitol. All battles with the Capitol are loss, Yurol knows this, but Finnick is a single person, and she knows this too. Then it dawns on me that Yurol is no longer in their house. I sprint down the stairs, run out of the house, and see her running up the stairs to Finnick's home. Right when I reach the stairs, and the door opens after Yurol has been furiously pounding on it, Finnick receives a _cracking_ slap to the face.

"How dare you think you can hurt Annie and just get away with it!" she shrieks. "You are not the golden boy among us!"

Her hand is raised to strike Finnick again, but suddenly Kenin is there. She halts midway, and stifles a cry of surprise. His eyes are cold, but I also detect a hint of tiredness. Tired of being angry, tired of blaming, tired of distance. "What do you think you are doing," after a breath he adds with much effort as if the task of saying her name causes much exhaustion, "Yurol?"

It is the first time he's called Yurol by her name, and this fact is not lost upon her. Very slowly she lowers her hand, and answers in a furiously shaking voice, "Finnick bruised Annie's arm by grabbing her too tightly. I can't just turn a blind eye."

Finnick and Kenin look at me because we three know that is not entirely what happened. Slowly, as if dazed—so I guess my few mental discrepancies do have an advantage—I say, "I was going to tell Yurol that I wasn't defending Finnick for causing the bruises because they were unintentional."

Yurol inhales sharply, "What?"

Kenin's expression tells me that he believes my slowness prevented me from telling the whole story before Yurol stormed over here, but surprisingly, to my annoyance, Finnick has this almost amused look on his face as if he knows this is a lie. A dangerous twinkle in his eye says, _I know exactly what you did Annie Cresta. I too, see right through you. And for that, I am going to get you back._ This is in my head, but somehow it feels so real as if he's spoken those very words solely to me.

I can't help but let my eyes reflect, _Bring it on Odair. Bring it on._

Whether involuntarily, coincidental, or intentional, Finnick ever so slightly nods. His lips lift into a grin upon seeing my surprise at this subtle gesture, and my face flushes. So, it was intentional after all. Our form of silent communication is interrupted by Yurol's demand. "What do you mean it was unintentional Annie?"

"He didn't," my eyes are still on Finnick who is now trying to conceal a guilty expression, "realize that he was grabbing my arm. It was a very emotional time. I didn't even realize he was grabbing my arm until after, uh, the door closed."

Yurol looks embarrassed and ashamed. "I am so sorry." she breathes.

Finnick shrugs and smiles, although I can see a wince of pain in his green eyes. "Don't worry about it. It's understandable."

Not knowing what to say, Yurol stands there awkwardly. I think all of us are surprised when Kenin diffuses the situation. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Yurol's mouth opens filled with questions, but she thinks better of it and closes her mouth giving him a nod in return. Then, he's gone, and apologetically, Finnick closes the door. Eventually Yurol meets me at the bottom of the stairs, but her eyes are alive with hope. A different hope. One that does not wish the return of the old Kenin, but hope because the new Kenin has acknowledged her existence. She brushes pass me, unaware I'm even there, and I know this is a night she'll want to spend alone.

So it's later in the night, when I'm asleep on the couch, that I hear the twisting of keys in the lock, and Kenin rushes over to me. "Annie! You need to come over. Something's wrong with Finnick."

"What?" I state loudly, and spring up from the couch. "What happened?"

He's pulling me out the door and closing it behind us. "I don't know. He won't stop screaming, and I've tried waking him. But he's calling your name."

Finnick's front door is wide open, and we run into the house. Kenin stops at the bottom of the stairs, and I turn around trying to suppress the shudders at hearing the terrified screams. "C'mon."

Kenin shakes his head. "No. I don't think I can bear being so close to that again. It triggers too many memories."

"Alright, wait here." I tell him.

Getting a grip, I breathe in, and run up the stairs. Finnick's door is open, and the screams become the very air I'm breathing. Filling every space and thundering against the walls. When I enter his room, I see that Finnick is sleeping naked again, and he's thrashing in his bed like he did so many nights ago. He looks scared, unable to wake himself from the nightmares, and his body is rigid with tension.

My heart yearns, and I want to help him. A thank you for all he has done. I near the bed, and see that his eyes appear to be partially open, so maybe all he needs is an extra push. But not from Kenin, from me. Because whenever he manages to yell, my name is screamed. Why would he be having a nightmare about me?

Softly I whisper, and wrap my hand around his clenched in fear, "Finnick, I'm here."

"Annie!" he roars loudly, and his face contorts into one of despair, and I feel my heart drop. Then suddenly, his eyes snap open, and his mouth breaks into a grin. "Got you."

Blank. Shocked. What? It feels like the longest second of my life as my mind comprehends this was some elaborate prank. Fueling off of the events of the last time I was in his bedroom. This was how he planned to get me back? Without thinking, I _yank_ the pillow out from under his head, and begin beating his face with it. "That was not funny! How dare you use my concern against me!"

Laughing hilariously, Finnick wrestles the pillow from my hands where it tears and there's an explosion of white feathers. Suddenly the laughing stops, and Finnick looks down at himself covered in what looks like a potentially ghastly Capitol costume. He mutters, "So I guess this joke ended up being on me."

He looks ridiculous, but I'm still furious. "Suits you well. I can't stand seeing you naked!"

Finnick grins, "Don't be too sure about that. You may get used to it."

"Don't count on it." I snap. I pick up some feathers, and attempt to throw them at him. "This was not a funny joke!"

The feathers harmlessly flutter down in front of Finnick, landing on his thighs. Thoughtfully, he begins brushing the feathers off, uncovering the muscular flesh beneath. "But this wasn't supposed to be funny. Any more funny than it was when you purposely let Yurol slap me."

My mouth partially opens, but I close it, and look out his window to the empty streets. "I have no idea what you mean."

The bed sheets rustle as Finnick moves around, and it sounds like he's sliding his body into an upright position. Playful accusation addresses me, "Let's make an agreement. No playing dumb, no games, just honesty."

I turn in his direction, and am stunned to see Finnick sitting close to the edge, leaning forward, his face much closer to mine than I ever expected. I'm thrown off for an instant, but quickly regain my senses. "Why would I believe you'll agree to any of those?"

"Because I'll agree to those terms if you do. I am the one making the agreement."

There are a few stray feathers randomly stuck to Finnick's body, and one on the left side of his ruffled hair. Challengingly I agree, "Fine. Whoever breaks the agreement loses."

"What exactly would one of us lose?" Finnick asks intrigued.

Where is this going? How did I allow myself to somehow go along with this...banter? But I refuse to stop now. Not when I'm displaying just as much authority as Finnick is used to having alone. I lean forward, and his face seems to freeze at my sudden closeness. So, he's not the only one capable of paralyzing another. I let myself smile, "Whoever loses, forfeits the right to interact with the other person unless the winner initiates communication. Which means, that when I win, I'll finally be free of your hindering nuisances."

"Don't be so sure of yourself. You may very well lose." Finnick says.

"Unlikely." I comeback.

He stretches his arm, and grins. "So then, why did you let Yurol slap me?"

"We can also refuse to answer a question." I add.

"Does that mean you're not going to answer?"

I do owe him an explanation, so I shake my head. "No, I will." I take a seat on his bed, keeping a good two feet between us because he's still naked and I know he has no plans of covering up. "Yurol accidently saw the bruises, and she freaked out. I guess I mentioned you did it, but before I could say it wasn't done maliciously, she was up and about, ready to attack you."

"I felt that." Finnick comments.

I laugh. "It's just been so long since I've seen her that alive. So full of energy and emotion. I'm sure you've noticed Yurol always seems tired and just beaten."

The bed slightly bounces with Finnick nodding his head. "I did notice that." He leans back on his arms. "I figured that's why you let her rage on until she slapped me. But I wanted to know if I'd read you correctly."

"So you tried to get me back by pretending you were having a nightmare?" I retort back with an edge of bitterness.

"Well for that and," Finnick casts a glance my way, "you should know your snot on my shirt caused a few problems." he lets out a laugh when I look at him confused, "I told you I was meeting some company. My _friend_ was repulsed when she saw the snot, and I had to lie saying it was the slime from some sea creature I killed. In the end I resolved it, but still. It was potentially harmful to my reputation."

My eyes roll and I shake my head. "Your reputation."

"That's another thing actually," Finnick teases, "everyone who knows you that I've met has made a reference to me being the 'golden boy'. Why is that? I've never encountered such disdain before."

"Does that bother you?" I rudely ask.

Finnick feigns regret, "Terribly."

He's so humorous and good-natured that I find my anger being doused. It's hard to stay mad at Finnick when he won't get mad about the things I've done. Instead, he calmly plays it off, or understands the reasons behind my actions. And he's the only one to stir up these outbursts of anger. Making me see that it is unfair for him that I react this way.

My head turns in his direction, and seriously I tell him. "I don't see you that way Finnick. You're not the golden boy, you're not a shallow fool with no heart. No matter what I say or how I act, you should know I do see the good." This time he's thrown off, and I see him swallow tensely. He can throw me off by his sexual pretenses, but I can catch him off guard with truth and kindness. I speak again because I know he has no response, "Get some sleep. I'll see you at dinner?"

Finnick's eyes say yes, though his body remains motionless. I nod, and shut the door behind me. My fingers feel shaky, but not out of fear or anger. Something else I can't quite recognize. Shaking my head, I walk down the stairs and meet Kenin who hasn't moved from his place.

He has a mischievous smile, and my eyes widen in disbelief. "You were in on this!"

Kenin begins to snicker. "Of course. Finnick thought it would be funny, and I went along with it."

"You little vermin!" I shriek, and put Kenin in a headlock. I ruffle his hair, and pin him to the ground. "I should attack you like how I did with Finnick."

"You attacked him?" Kenin asks, his voice muffled.

Finally I release him, "Not exactly. Unless he can't handle a pillow."

We're sitting on the floor, laughing, and we lean against the stairs. Kenin rests his head on my shoulder. "I needed a good laugh. I'm sorry."

I shrug. "Don't worry about it."

"Seems like a lot more mercy than I received!" Finnick calls from his room.

Kenin and I erupt in laughter, and I can hear Finnick laughing from behind his closed door. The mood is cheery and pleasant, and I could bask in this for awhile. So I do. With Kenin. We must have fallen asleep on the stairs because when I awake in the middle of the night, I see that pillows are tucked beneath are heads and a blanket is draped over us. Drowsily, I think of what a kind man Finnick must be, and I allow the sleep to take over again.


	9. Chapter 9: Nightmare

**alright, so heres chapter nine! sorry it's taken me awhile, but it's decently long so i hope that makes it up. i'll try to be more on it with updating regularly but no promises. my last day of summer courses will be tomorrow, but i'll be leaving for hawaii and i'll be busy there, so ill do my best. especially before my fall semester starts because i won't have time for sure then (20 credits). i'll write when i can, promise, and thanks to all my readers and those who review. i appreciate the support and the fact many of you are following my story =] enjoyy! **

**i'm in abnormal psychology so random facts: nicole kidman is afraid of butterflies (it's a real phobia, i'm scared of them too), in 1927 the supreme court declared that eugenic sterilization of people with mental disorders was constitutional (the last one was performed in 1981).**

**R. D. Laing: "Insanity—a perfectly rational adjustment to an insane world."**

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Nightmare**

_Finnick POV_

Through the window I can the see sky lightening with the coming sun, but it'll be another hour or so until the sun rises above the horizon, and then an hour until—I stop the last thought in my head. It's none of my concern. It doesn't really matter. _Then why are you up cooking breakfast so early_, a voice nags in my head. _Because it's the polite thing to do_, I retort. The voice almost laughs as if it sees the truth which I won't admit because there is no truth, _Since when have you cared about doing the polite thing?_ I busy myself with flipping the omelet, _This has nothing to do with what I faked to you in the 65th Hunger Games!_

The voice gives a small cry of hurt, and shrivels away. Dormant for now. I grip the counter of my kitchen, and while the voice is gone, it does not keep away the forthcoming thoughts. Ever since I entered the doctor's examination room after winning, it's as if my mind finally allowed itself to break since I was safe. While they examined me and asked me questions, I heard whispers from the dead tributes. They haunted me, but I knew better than to tell anyone this dreadful secret.

For days I was tormented, yet able to display an act of sanity. And on the train returning to Four, Mags finally asked, "You're hearing them aren't you?"

The voices seemed to scream in my head, but I managed to calmly ask. "Hearing what?"

Sam, the other mentor had passed out from drinking an entire bottle of potent pink spirits, and Mags shook her head. "Well then, if you ever do, I live right across from the house next to you."

She knew I was lying, but she also understood that I needed to come to terms with things on my own. Then, arrogant and proud—perhaps I still am—I'd thought I could deal with the voices on my own. After all, I'd won the 65th Hunger Games, hadn't I? But several days later, I'd nearly crawled to Mags' house in the dead of night, driven mad by the haunting voices of the tributes I killed.

Cristine's voice was the one just in my head, and it's got me worried because they've been silent for awhile now. Hearing even just one voice is not a good sign. I'm going to have to speak with Mags later today. A sizzling sound brings me back, and I slide the browned omelet onto a plate. As I turn the stove off, soft footsteps alert to me that someone has entered my kitchen.

Annie is leaning against the doorway, "Why are you up?"

"I'm cooking." I say showing her two of the three plates of omelets. "Why are you up?"

"I'm always up this early."

"Oh." I don't know what else to say, and I put one of the plates in the fridge for Kenin to eat when he wakes up. "Sleep problems?"

She shrugs, brown hair spilling over her shoulders and falling so gracefully. "Not really. Just don't need that much sleep. I wanted to thank you before I left."

"Where are you going?" I ask, not acknowledging her gratitude.

"Next door. I need to eat breakfast before my morning shift."

I walk the two plates over to Annie, and hold a plate before. "Guess it's a good thing I made you breakfast then."

Very slightly her head tilts, and she bites her lips. She's trying to read into my actions, but I don't know what they are myself. Annie decides on something, and she raises her hand to take the plate. "Thanks."

Embarrassed, I dismiss her thanks and take a seat at the dining table after returning with two glasses, Annie sitting across from me. She breaks off a piece with her fork, putting it into her mouth, and her eyes widen in astonishment staring intently at me. Uneasily, I stop lifting my fork. "Yes?"

Annie swallows. "This is incredible. I never would have thought you were a good cook." Then, realizing this sounds more like an insult than a compliment, she glances down. "That came out wrong."

"It's fine." I tell her, and begin eating again. "And thanks. After cooking at the community homes for more than several years, I would hope I learned something from all that time."

We eat comfortably in silence for several minutes, and then with her plate empty, Annie looks up at me. "Can I ask you something?" I nod and lift the last piece of egg into my mouth. "How were the community homes so bad? Like, what made them bad?"

I do my best to not let the egg get stuck in my throat, but Annie looks there as I struggle to swallow. Those are times I try not to think about. Things better off left in the past. Remaining there. Never sifting through the wreckage. But I guess now is the best moment for me to take a look at that past because I technically won't have to do it alone.

I push my plate slightly forward, and look into her attentive green eyes. "Everything about there is soulless. You sleep on the floor with a thin tattered blanket for comfort, gray slop is your meal everyday except for the once a week meager portion of fish, cold showers with no privacy, and the staff will beat you for the simplest of things. There's no care or concern there. Everyone has to look out for themselves."

Alright, so I gave a brief overview. That alone feels like a lot to tell a girl who is a—what is she? Not a stranger. Acquaintance doesn't sound right. Friend sounds too strong. A girl who has happened to frequently drop in on my life and I vice versa. Why am I even revealing this to her? It can't be because of that silly agreement I conjured up last night. Even that seemed all games and fun; nothing serious. Might as well take advantage of that since it seems like Annie is.

Her face is emotionless, but her eyes say something else. It's not pity—no one looks at me that way; Four citizens think I have it all, and the victors have a sad understanding. Annie is different. The look in her eyes almost says to me that she feels...grief? How does that even make sense? Whatever it is, it unnerves me. I clear my throat and curiously ask to deter my mind to other things, "Now you know that, so what was the deal with you and the ocean?"

Unexpectedly Annie stiffens. Something is running through her mind, and I think she's going to go along and declare that question needs no answering. But then she opens her mouth, "A lot of bad things happened with liquid. When it surrounds me, I panic."

It's the truth, but not the precise truth she's thinking about. However, it's not like Annie needs to tell me her personal life. Neither of us are entitled to information about the other. And I can respect that. Understandingly, I nod. "Everyone has some deep rooted fear."

"Does your's involve what happened to you in the arena?"

I stiffen. Involuntarily all my muscles are rigid and I can't bring myself to relax. This is weakness. One that I can't tear myself away from. _You've always been weak Finnick_, Perry's voice snarls. _I can't believe you made it out alive. It should have been me!_

A ridiculing high pitch laugh only belonging to Sandra pierces my eardrums, _You! That's the biggest joke I've ever heard. _I squeeze my eyes shut, pressing my thumb and forefinger to the ridge of my nose. _If anyone should have lived, it should have been me! I was the deadliest one of the Careers._

Tara, from District 3 who was the last standing tribute aside from me, cackles with the sound of electricity, _But you, like all the other fools, allowed yourself to become ensnared in Finnick's elaborate declarations of romance. How stupid you must have been! He claimed to love the two of you without either one expecting an affair._

_Shut your mouth!_ Sandra shrieks, the pitch echoing throughout my head.

"Finnick?" a voice like a lifesaver asks, dispelling the phantom voices. "Are you okay? I'm sorry if my question upset you."

I open my eyes, and the green across the table anchors me to the present moment's reality. Finally some solid footing to keep me in place, and I hold on to the green. It's stopping my mind from drifting off into the currents of a terrible past. The lovely in front pushes her glass of water towards me as if she knows my throat is incredibly parched. With trembling fingers I take the glass, and allow the water to drench the dryness. I'm able to regather myself.

I crack my neck and let out a deep breath. "It's fine. I'm sure as you understand better than most, the games always have some long lasting effect on the mind. Whenever I have fear, my mind goes there. To the games."

Annie stretches her fingers and curls them in thoughtfully. "To most, you seem to be better than just fine."

"I know." I reply. That appearance has never been different.

"It allows room for great misjudgment." She purses her lips together, "I know I did. I'm sorry."

Nothing but sincerity is on Annie's face, and again I wonder who this girl is. On multiple occasions she's apologized, another time it was along this line, but the current apology is also different in its own way. Annie cares a great deal for her actions and thoughts. I like that. It stands in contrast to the shallow women I've met.

I pick her plate up and put it on mine, giving me something to do. "Don't be. I can be arrogant and inconsiderate. And honestly, that's not likely to change."

She smiles, and gathers the glasses. "Whatever helps you cope, right?"

"Right." I agree, and then I shake my head. "Don't clean up. I can get those."

Annie rolls her eyes and walks around the table with the glasses still in her hands. "Finnick, I'm a waitress. This is nothing." I playfully shrug my shoulders admitting surrender and we deposit the dishes in the sink. The sun is probably peeking over the horizon at this point, and it seems significantly brighter outside. She'll be leaving soon...

Anyways, "So if you don't like to go into the ocean, does that mean you don't like to go out to sea in a boat?"

Very slightly, Annie tilts her head, "I'm not sure." her fingers tap the kitchen island behind her. "I've never thought about that before."

"Really?"

"Yeah. No one I know has a boat for pleasure."

The words tumble out of my mouth before I have a chance to hold them back, "Except for me. Kenin and I were going to go out in a few days, if you're interested in joining us I know he won't mind."

Nervously, shyly, doubtfully?—somethingly, Annie bites her upper lip and glances down no longer meeting my eyes. Did I overstep some invisible boundary? We're not exactly friends so maybe I am out of place to be asking Annie if she wants to spend time together. It's not just with me though, Kenin will be there. Like he's always been. She's here with me because of Kenin. Well, she came here last night because of my "nightmare", but she's always here—other than yesterday and that other night—because of Kenin. Wait, overstep? Isn't that what I've been doing this whole time? All the sexual implications and nakedness? But yet this is different. Very unlike anything before.

Annie's eyes raise to meet mine again, and she gives me a smile small. "I'll think about it."

"Alright." I say kindly, and meet her smile too.

"Well, I should probably go. Yurol will be up and I want to be there for her." She begins walking out, "Thanks for cooking breakfast. It really was delicious."

I nod my head accepting the thanks, and then she leaves. Kenin is still asleep at the bottom of the stairs and he knows I put his breakfast in the fridge every day which allows me to depart for Mags' because I am seriously concerned about the intensity of the voices. I jog to her house, and knock several times. Mags must have been in the kitchen because she answers the door shortly after, and I know she doesn't sleep much either. Expectedly, she motions for me to come in and returns to the kitchen where some soup is simmering over the stove.

Without looking back, she quietly asks, "The voices have come back, haven't they?"

I lean against the kitchen island and answer her. "Yeah, but I don't know why. It's been almost half a year."

"It happens to the best of us Finnick. They'll never really go away." Mags simply replies, stirring the soup with a wooden spoon. "The best we can do is know they're not real."

"What usually triggers you to hear the voices?"

Mags' shoulders tense briefly, but then she relaxes and removes the pot of soup from the stove. She places it on a mat, and scoops several portions into a bowl. We walk upstairs to sit on her balcony with an ocean view. Mags begins speaking after she takes a sip of the soup. "Oh it's been awhile Finnick since I've heard any voices, I'm usually left with the dreams. But when I did hear the voices, it was when great changes occurred. Whether it involved grief, happiness, fear, anger." Teasingly, Mags asks in a implicative tone, "What has changed in dear Finnick's life?"

I lean back in my chair even though I know it annoys Mags to death because she fears I'll fall backwards and break my neck. It seems a silly thing to worry about considering we're victors. "Not much. I've been spending more time with Kenin's fake sister. And, she's different." I can't help but say with my tone changing at the latter.

"Don't make me smack you Finnick," Mags growls even though I know she wouldn't, "I don't know how many times I need to scold you before you'll learn to not lean back in your chair." She doesn't continue talking until I let the chair's four legs touch the balcony floor. "What makes this fake sister different?"

I look to my right and see Kenin's house. The curtains are drawn but I know there must be a semi amount of flurry going on inside. Annie and Yurol will be getting ready to leave for work, and later tonight I'll stop by The Shack again. Then I'll get to see her and walk her home. With Yurol of course. I'm sure Kenin would want me watching out for both of them. Not just Annie. Yes, that's the only reason why I've been going there every night and will continue to. Annie has just become more involved in my life because of Kenin. Yes. That's all there is to it.

I shake my head. "She's close with another victor."

* * *

_Annie POV_

"He made you breakfast?" Yurol repeats for the third time incredulously. "Actually made it? Like, cooked it himself? With his own hands?"

I hook my bra and slip my shirt over. "Yes. He cooked an omelet." I turn to face her and see that she is still looking at me with a gaping expression. "It was on the stove cooking in a pan which he was holding, and then when it was finished he put it on a plate. And you know what?"

"What?" she asks in the same tone.

"He even poured us water!" I exclaim.

Yurol throws a pillow at me. "Don't mock me! That's not a big deal."

"Why is Finnick cooking a big deal then?" I ask.

"Is that a defensive tone I hear?" Yurol mocks me.

I throw the pillow back at her. "No! Why would I defend him?"

She takes my arm in hers and suggestively whispers in my ear with a warm breath. "Because he cooked you breakfast."

"Oh whatever." I say and push her away.

This makes Yurol laugh and she takes my arm again. "But seriously, I'm just surprised."

"I gathered that." I tell her as we walk downstairs. "Why are you so surprised though?"

"I don't know," she says and I feel her shoulders shrug, "I always assumed he would have hired help. You know, being the golden boy and all. It doesn't fit the Capitol image of Finnick Odair doing things for himself. He seems really pampered with his life here and there."

We walk out the front door and down the porch stairs. Gently I tell her, "He's not from the Capitol Yurol. He's still from Four. He's still just another person from a district." An urge compels me to look to my left and I see Finnick sitting on the balcony with Mags at her house. He's talking to Mags, and then his head slowly turns our way. It's too far to see the green but I know they're looking at mine. Only for a moment that instance stays that way. Two people looking at one another. Then, it passes. Finnick gives me a cocky grin and I roll my eyes returning my attention back to Yurol. "Finnick is a victor like Kenin. And unlike most people from Four he did come from the community homes. Don't let the golden boy image deceive you."

We're out of the Victors' Village, and Yurol talks after we've passed a few neighborhoods. "I never thought about it that way. He just acts so..." she can't find the right word.

"Unaffected." I finish for her.

"Yeah. He doesn't seem bothered."

I think of that night I saw him in real terror. "He is." I say softly. "All the victors are."

Yurol holds my arm tighter and I know she's thinking about Kenin again. During this silence I take in our usual surroundings. People walking by. Some guys are shirtless, others dressed fully despite the heat. Girls walking in groups chatting loudly, some of it about Finnick. Peacekeepers patrolling. The little shops around us opening for the day. In Ike's Fish an assortment of multi-colored fish are hanging from hooks in the window display. Children run around to the amusement of vendors selling dried seaweed treats. A typical day in Four. It's all that I could ask for.

* * *

It's been a long day and I feel stretched thin, but there's still a few hours before the night shift ends. And, Finnick still hasn't come which I have to admit I feel is a bit strange. I guess I got use to him coming in regularly. It would have been nice to have someone to talk with during my down time. Not that I've had much of that today with the surge of customers who suddenly seem to be eating at The Shack, most of them female, and definitely not when Derek was here. My hands clench around the pitcher, and I set it down closing my eyes to suppress a shudder. I keep the thoughts away and return to the former. But still, it would have been nice when I did have the down time.

"Have you missed me yet?" a warm seductive purr asks closely to my right ear.

Immediately my tension loosens and I open my eyes to see Finnick smiling. It's good to see him and I feel a wave of heat but not because of the sexual implication. However, I roll my eyes and return his smile. "Yes Finnick, you fill my every waking thought and you're all I ever think about." Is that slightly ironic since I _was_ thinking about him?

He gives me one of those laughs that you contain within a smile and, in his case, flash with flawless white teeth. "Perfect. You've finally stopped resisting _this_," he gestures to his entire body from head to toe, "allure."

"You're so ridiculous." I simply say.

Finnick shrugs powerful shoulders. "I can't help it if I'm ridiculously attractive."

"Like I said, ridiculous."

"Ridiculously attractive you mean."

We laugh that internal laughter, and I shake my head while he tilts his head just so and I know it's considered a good posture. I think it's an automatic reflex already that Finnick doesn't actually realize the way he positions his stance. At least most of the time. Not when it's natural. When he's trying, I'm sure he knows. But this feels natural, and not like it's some games he's run through his head how he did in the beginning or the way he does with other girls.

With feigned exasperation, I gesture to the tables. "Take a seat anywhere. I'll get to you eventually when I have time."

"Eventually? When you have time?" he questions with mock horror. "Well indeed then that shall be reflected in your tip."

I give him an expression of disbelief, and he runs a hand through his bronze hair as he leaves smiling to take a seat at a table for two. Despite the various affairs Finnick has, he doesn't seem to enjoy the company of people in normal settings. There are always open tables with girls, but instead he chooses to sit alone every time. It seems contradictive.

In the back I get a glass for his water, and then pour him a glass of that disgustingly sweet drink. We were going to discontinue it, but when Binsen saw that Finnick always ordered it, there was no way we could follow through. Oh no. Not when our best customer loved it. Especially because Binsen theorizes that if Finnick stops coming, the increase in female customers we've been seeing will fall. Which does sound like a legitimate theory. Having the best view of the entire dine-inn, I can see when all the girls stupidly gawk at Finnick. Dare each other to go over and make conversation with him. And all of the brave are always pleased when he makes commitments to see _all_ of them later. Maybe if they had my view they would see they're just another girl. Maybe it wouldn't matter.

Yesterday I wore a long sleeved shirt to cover Finnick's bruise, but I only have one of those shirts. Meaning today I'm wearing tight black pants and a short sleeved white shirt. Everyone in the back has been stealing glances at the bruise, and I catch Lance biting his lip as he stares. His eyes meet mine and he quickly looks away. Even Binsen is too enthralled with inspecting our haul of fresh oysters.

With my back pressed against the kitchen doors, I announce loudly. "Joa and I were messing around before my shift yesterday. He accidently gripped my arm too tightly. Both of you can stop looking like you're about to unleash a massive load."

Binsen and Lance look up with guilty expressions filled with relief. I smile at them and shake my head because I know they care about my safety. They're both extensions of my family in some way. Binsen hired me right after my parents died and I know it wasn't because of my exceptional waitressing skills. It was no secret among the adults what happened to my family. And Lance has always acted as the quiet grandfatherly type. Bleach white hair against dark brown, wrinkled, leathery skin. Only talks about personal things if I bring it up. Which I don't. Instead we talk about trivial things.

Now that they're both at ease, I push the doors open and enter my domain. A few tables are glancing at me; one of them wants their bill I'm sure, and the table with girls wants to order. I go over to Finnick's table and place the drinks in front of him. He's staring at my bruise, and unlike other people he doesn't try to conceal this, but when he drinks the Sweet Burst it seems like he relaxes. Though, his eyes are still on the dark purple, yellow fringed bruise.

"Stop it." I order Finnick.

Guiltily he looks up. "Does it hurt?"

"Of course. And feeling bad about it won't help. If you stop feeling bad it'll help."

"How?"

I can almost feel my other two tables willing me to attend to them. Because it's Finnick, I know I can say this. "I'll tell you upon our next talk. I need to help my other tables."

Teasingly he calls out, "Reflected in the tip."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes because my tables can see me. My first table is a couple and I give them their bill, they pay, leave a small tip, and I move on. The next table has three girls, and I don't get to ask what they'll order because a black haired, green eyed girl bombards me with questions. "Does Finnick Odair come here a lot? I've heard rumors so it must be true right? What does he usually order? Have you talked with him a lot?"

"Do you think he would be interested in us?" a blonde with blue eyes asks me. "Maybe you could ask him if he wants to come over."

The three stare at me expectantly, and it takes me a moment to realize that they're serious. Their faces slowly shift over to annoyance because I'm still standing here, and I know they're thinking that I'm stupid. Without actually having talked to my table, I head back over to Finnick. He's drank half of the Sweet Burst and I feel sick just thinking about how it would taste.

Finnick leans back in his chair, his arm resting on the back support. "Back already? That was quick. I knew you had to see me."

"Actually," I say, and tuck some hair behind my ear, "those three girls at the table behind me _have_ to see you. They've requested your presence."

He doesn't look their way; his eyes remain on me. "What do you think I should do?"

"Whatever you want. What you do with them isn't my business."

Something flashes in Finnick's eyes, and then he turns his head to look at them. "It never changes, you know."

"What doesn't?" I ask.

He sighs. "All the girls. They're all the same. Most of them anyway."

I look at the girls too, and they're all giggling and smiling at Finnick. Does he sound bored? His expression even looks bored. It could be a part of some game to act disinterested only heightening their intrigue. That's probably it. But he's talking to me. We agreed; no more games. _He isn't the guy the Capitol portrays him as_. I'll go with my intuition and believe he's actually bored.

I turn my gaze back to Finnick, and he does the same. "Whatever helps you cope?"

"What did you say?" he asks a bit sharply. There's shock on his face like I've uncovered some deep secret, and his body is rigid with tension. One would think Finnick's received bad news by the intensity on his face.

Nervously, I stammer. "I-I only meant th-that." Deep breath. "Forget it. I made a stupid comment. I'm sorry."

Seconds tick away; feeling so long that I fear time has frozen. But then Finnick breathes in deeply, and finishes the rest of his Sweet Burst. He shakes his head, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so serious. It's just, no one's ever said that to me before. They all assume I'm nothing but a whore."

"I don't think you're a whore Finnick."

Kindly he says, "You did at first."

Lightly I reply, "Not really."

"Yeah? What did you think about me before we," he pauses as if he's trying to find the right words, "got to know each other?"

I laugh, "Okay, well maybe that word popped into my head a few times. But it wasn't really meant to define you, it was more of what you did. I noticed you were talked about that way, and the screens always showed you in the company of various women." I try to collect my words. "I thought you were arrogant and cocky, completely carefree, thought you were better than us, and slept around." He's smiling. "Basically, I thought you were extremely annoying and unpleasant."

This makes Finnick laugh, "Nice honesty."

"Maybe that'll bring you down a few notches."

"Not a chance." he laughs. "Everyone else sees what they want. That's their choice. Who am I stop others from judging the impression I give off?" Finnick stands up, "Well, I guess I do have a reputation to maintain."

"I guess so." I agree. "The usual?"

"Yes, please." Finnick tells me. He begins walking over to the girls, "And another-"

"Refill." I finish before him. "Got it."

He gives me one more smile before taking a seat with the girls. When I return with his refill, their table's conversation is at full speed. I place the drink down where Finnick mouths a thank you, and the blonde is jabbering on about some stupid crisis concerning her hair. Her friends throw in some comments, expressing horror, laughter. Finnick nods his head, and says a few words.

This goes on for a few minutes before a different black haired girl but with brown eyes rudely asks. "Did you need something?"

Does she think I wanted to be standing here listening? It's been extremely awkward for me. But unless a customer is unbearably rude, I usually tolerate it because it means business for Binsen. "I need your orders."

"Oh." she says in a tone that makes me want to punch her in the face. _Geeze, am I a violent person?_ "Well I'll take a seaweed soup."

The blonde and other black haired girl want the same. I ask all of them, "Is there anything else?"

Now the blonde, clearly irritated I'm still here so she can't continue talking about her social life, says, "If we'd wanted anything else, we would have _told_ you."

Finnick opens his mouth, but I beat him. "Alright then." I slightly kick his foot and let it rest there. Then I turn to him. "And how are you doing?"

His eyes are focused and I know he gets my meaning to stay quiet. I can hear the control in his voice. "Fine. Everything is fine."

"Yes it is." I tell him, and I nod once before leaving. In the kitchen I tell Lance, "Three seaweed soups." He nods and begins tossing seaweed in the simmering broth. Binsen is outside the backdoor talking with Yurol, and Joln is opening the oysters. From where I am, I tell Joln. "And a fish platter with a side of oysters."

"Of course." he mutters in disgust knowing it's Finnick's order.

He doesn't look at me, and I just shake my head turning back to Lance who is unnecessarily stirring the soup. I lean against a table of octopuses, "How have things been for you Lance?"

Lance looks at me and smiles. "Oh you know, the usual. Work, home, wife. Not much changes around here."

I laugh. "You gotta spice it up." His right eyebrow raises wondering if he heard me correctly. Then I realize how what I said sounded. "I mean you need to bring some excitement into your life." This makes him smirk. "You need to break your daily routine! Why does everyone do that?"

"Sometimes it's just too easy with you Annie. You unintentionally set yourself up." he laughs.

My eyes roll and I grab an octopus' tentacle shaking it at Lance. "You need to behave yourself."

Lance scoops the soup into three bowls placing them on a tray. "Never dearie."

I slide the tray off the table and go back to the front only to feel my heart drop. It's unbelievable. Completely unbelievable! Every bit of my existence wants to scream and my mind nearly slips from reality. Derek here is for the second time in one day. He's at a table with Vonir and Lionel, and when he sees me that damn smirk is on his face and I feel sick to my stomach. He knows it, and it gives him satisfaction. I want to scream and scream and scream.

Very casually I walk by and tell them, "I'll be right with you."

I lift the bowls off the tray and place them in front of the girls. Their annoyed looks barely register in my brain. I need to go back to _that_ table, but I need time to gather myself. I don't have time though. Derek has only ever come in the morning. Why has his routine changed? _So he can catch you after your shift. _I just need time to gather myself. Gather myself. I need time.

"Why are you still here?" the black haired, green eyed girl snaps.

I look at her confused. Is she talking to me? Finnick looks concerned. "Annie?"

I recognize his voice. His face. His eyes. They're familiar territory even though we've had no involvement. He may not know it, but somehow he manages to save me. Pulls me back into sanity's breath of air. Unsteadily, I reply. "Yes?"

"Everything alright?"

We said no more lies, didn't we? Does this count? But I can't say the truth. "Yes." I tell him. "Yes, everything is fine." I inhale deeply, and gather myself. "Your order is being prepared."

"With spit?" he asks jokingly.

I tilt my head in questioning, but then I understand. Because Joln is preparing it. I laugh and shake my head. "Lance and Binsen are back there so I doubt it. However much it may be wanted." Finnick laughs and the girls are glaring at me clearly considering our talk intrusive to their intentions. But I'm okay now, I can handle Derek. "I'll be back when your order is ready."

"Yes, please, leave." the blonde disdainfully tells me.

I am about to leave when from the front, Lionel calls out. "Odair, come join us."

Finnick turns to all the girls. "It would be extremely rude if I left all of you, wouldn't it?"

"Extremely." the blonde flirtatiously says.

"Very." the green eyed girl agrees.

The brown eyed girl says, "So very."

Finnick leans forward and they lean in closer. He lowers his voice. "Which is exactly why I will be leaving." Their jaws drop in dismay. "Your company has been extremely unpleasant and I finally found a reason to excuse myself. All of you have seriously ridiculous issues and listening to you for the past several minutes has made me want to stick forks in my ears. I hope to never encounter any of you again." Haughtily he tells them with smirk, "Have a good night."

The chair pushes out beneath him, and Finnick holds his arm out in the direction of the table with peacekeepers. "Shall we?"

I'm not looking forward to talking with Derek, but Finnick will be there and that makes it okay. Better. "We shall."

* * *

_Finnick POV_

The only open seat at the peacekeepers' table was across from Derek and Vonir which means I have a clear view of the three seething girls. They must have told me their names but it's not like I remember. Besides, they were being extremely rude to Annie and it just made my blood boil. Normally I'm a bit more respectful, although that may not say much, but I had to knock their egos down drastically. They glare at me, get out from the table, storm past us after giving me spiteful looks, and leave their soups untouched.

Annie sighs and speaks to the peacekeepers. "What can I get you to drink?"

"Water." Vonir, who is across from me, tells her.

Lionel, who is sitting next to me, also says, "Water."

Derek, who is next to Vonir, inappropriately says, "How about some of that sweet nectar from your lips?"

Her mouth parts and I can see concealed horror, although the horror isn't something you can actually see explicitly. Annie doesn't say anything, and it seems as if she's trying to suppress choked screams in her throat. Her left foot begins to frantically twist, and the only thing I can think of doing is putting my foot next to hers. Very subtly, I bring my right foot next to hers, and let it partially rest on top as if our feet substitute as hands.

This appears to bring her back from wherever because Annie closes her mouth and licks her lips. "So water for you too?"

There's hunger in Derek's eyes. "Yes."

Annie looks at me as our feet separate, but her face is emotionless. That's the only indication I get of acknowledgment. She leaves, and it sounds like she forcefully pushes the kitchen doors open. While I am annoyed about Derek's sexual remarks, I have to wonder why it's impacted Annie this way? Haven't I made countless sexual implications? Especially when I was naked? Maybe she doesn't find him attractive so the flirting weirds her out. Would that mean she finds me attractive then? I think I'm being arrogant again now.

Derek leans forward and whispers, "Have any of you been with that?" he nods his head in the direction of the kitchen doors.

"No." Lionel scoffs. "Since when would she give any of us the time of day?"

Vonir shrugs, "She's pretty, but I'm with Pamera."

"Odair?" Derek asks.

I shake my head. "Nope. She's not the type of girl I sleep with."

Lionel snorts. "All girls are your type."

"That's not what I meant." I say. "The type of girls I sleep with sleep around. Annie isn't that type of girl."

This catches Derek's attention. "You know her?"

"Kind of." I take a sip of the purple drink. "She lives with Kenin, and he kind of lives with me right now. She's been over a lot to stay with him."

Lionel asks Derek. "Have you had sex with her?"

Quickly Derek answers, "No. No way." he laughs almost nervously. "Like you said, she wouldn't be interested in any of us."

Derek changes the topic to talking about numerous girls throughout Four, and Lionel joins in. Vonir is looking at me, and I know we have business to talk about. He rubs his temple, "I almost forgot. Snow wants you and Kenin in the Capitol in five days."

I'm alarmed but I keep my voice level. "Kenin?"

His voice is nonchalant, but his eyes are sad. "He's nearly sixteen Odair. You know the fate of good looking victors. Besides, maybe it won't be so bad. He was sleeping with Staryl as a strategy." He can see my concern so he casually adds, "Kenin has a lot to lose. And you can't help him because now Snow can use him as leverage as he could with Mags."

Kenin has become leverage hasn't he? Cashmere is wrong. I do have people to lose. Just not in the typical way. I need more information about the rebellion. "Who else is going?"

"No one of interest to you. Except maybe Cashmere and Heria." Vonir raises his eyebrows. "But Gloss, you, and Kenin. That's it."

Haymitch won't be there. Mags won't be. This trip won't be of assistance to the rebellion. I sigh in disappointment. "How long is this one going to be?"

"Five days."

"Five?" I ask incredulously. They're normally three. Four at most.

Vonir simply says. "Snow wants Kenin to become familiar with the Capitol's ways. Especially with the Victory Tour coming up in four months."

The Victory Tour. That dreadful celebration of a victor's deep shame for being proclaimed a murderer. I remember my tour so clearly. And it was the furthest thing from a victory.

~~~~Twelve is our first stop, and I'm glad for that. The next last standing tribute was a girl from Three, and I killed all the Careers from One and Two. Which means I won't have to face those districts right away. I'd begged Mags to get me out of this Victory Tour, but she said that was an impossible request. Our escort gives me a vicious smile, and I want to shudder at the look of her grotesque physique. There are jewels implanted all over her body, and the yellow of her hair looks revolting.

I'm so focused on her appearance that I don't realize I'm being guided towards a microphone to give the victor's speech. By the time I do realize this, I'm standing in front of the microphone and a sea of faces which seem to merge together becoming one uniform surface. I can see myself on the screen next to the girl's section, and it really clicks now: I am being screened live across all of Panem just as I was during my game.

It's so strange to see a live airing of myself, and I see my mouth open. "I hope your grief will lessen in pain."

The crowd is staring at me expectantly, and the following silence rings loudly. Do they expect me to say more? What more is there to say? No one seems to realize I've concluded with my speech and I see hundreds of eyes glance side to side. The cameras are still rolling, and that's when I hear a loud snort of bitter laughter. "Well I guess that about wraps it up. Nice speech kid." Everyone turns to the source, and I see Haymitch just as he gives a single clap. "That was moving. Truly. I think I speak on behalf of every person present."

He pushes long blonde hair from his face and begins walking away. A peacekeeper steps in front of him. "You are not permitted to leave until the ceremony has finished."

Haymitch calls out to me. "Are you done kid?"

Kid. What an insult. But I simply say, "Yes."

Haymitch leans forward getting into the peacekeeper's face and roughly says, "Then I believe I have every right to leave." Without waiting for a reply, he pushes forward and keeps walking, completely unconcerned about any potential punishments. But no one does anything.

The screen goes blank and I'm escorted back into the Justice Building. Inside I ask Mags, "That was Haymitch?"

"Yes." she says. "He's quite a character."

"Why would he risk speaking to a peacekeeper that way?"

Mags sits in a chair and leans against the wall behind her. "Technically he did have the right to leave, although it was a bit risky. But Haymitch has nothing to lose." She sees my questioning look, and whispers, "Haymitch's family and girl were murdered because of a little stunt he pulled during his game. He's doesn't care about what happens to him."

It was the first encounter I had with Haymitch. And the rest of the tour continued in the same manner for the most part.

Eleven: I am sorry for your loss.

Ten: I hope your families will heal.

Nine: I am sorry for the life I took.

Eight: I hope you find comfort with time.

Seven: I am sorry for what I did.

Six: I hope things get better.

Five: I am sorry for what your families endured.

We skip Four. And the following districts had slightly different speeches.

Three: She almost made it to being victor, and I am sorry for taking away that chance.

Two: They were good allies, very strong, and I am sorry for what it came down to.

One: I am sorry that our alliance ended up the way it did.

We go to the Capitol, but the rawness from the tour looms over the dinner and celebration that I barely register anything going on. Hundreds of tables with thousands of plates meant for a few hundred people. It's enough food to feed Four and then some. The food does look exotic but I have no appetite for it, and the little I do eat has no taste. The interview goes by in a blur. I mainly project a cocky young boy who sways the heart of numerous females far older than is appropriate. I'm doing fine, just fine. Better than fine, great actually. And the dinner at Snow's, I keep myself detached.

His snake like eyes looking me over analytically. Observing my every move and word. Swollen lips forming into a smile when he learns I'll be sixteen in about a year. And then we returned to Four. After what seemed like a lifetime of torment. By then the voices were screaming in my head having been brought about from the freshly reopened wounds because of the tour.

Somehow I'd managed to make it through the Harvest Festival, and found Emilia Sergin's family. Their faces were racked with pain, but they found it in themselves to hear my apology. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect her. I'm sorry I didn't keep her alive."

Their only reply was, "It wasn't your responsibility." They still blamed me because I lived while their daughter died, but they were trying to say what was logical. Because it wasn't my responsibility, but I was and will always be responsible.

* * *

_Annie POV_

"Finnick?" I ask. He'd had a blank look on his face and wasn't responding to any of the peacekeepers.

His face snaps out of the daze and he looks at me. "Yes?"

"Your food." I hold it up so he can see.

"Oh, right." he says, and removes his hands from the table so I can set the plates down. "Thanks."

"No problem." I ask everyone else, and even force myself to look at Derek who is avoiding eye contact now. "Your orders should be out soon. Do you need anything else?"

Lionel and Vonir say no, and Derek shakes his head still not quite looking at me. Whatever brought about the change in his predatory behavior, I am extremely thankful for. And throughout the entire night I do not feel as if I have to worry about Derek anymore. Something has cowed him and I have no idea what it was, but I feel safe. Not worried. And I can feel that it is not some plan to get my guard down. Something has seriously made him cautious.

The peacekeepers leave, and when my shift is over, Finnick is waiting at a table in the front. He sees me and smiles. "Ready?" he asks, while stretching his legs and then standing up.

"Do you want to see something really quick?"

Uncertainly, he responds, "Sure?" I nod my head to the stairs, and begin walking up. Behind me his voice rises to the ceiling, "Where are we going?"

"To my old room."

"Why Miss Cresta, I thought the day would never come." he says teasingly.

"Shut up," I laugh, "that's not why I'm bringing you there."

I open the door, and see that everything is as it was. The bed is made, window closed, no decorations. The way I liked it. Finnick steps in and looks around. "So this is where you slept."

"It is." I tell him and look out the window. "It was one of my homes."

Finnick stands besides me and looks out the window. The ocean is illuminated by the moonlight, and you can see the sloping hill which turns into a cliff next to The Shack. The only access to the ocean is on one path. This view, like the other ocean views, are on paths which are impossible to get to the beach from. I raise my left hand to my ear and keep it there.

Finnick turns to me and looks concerned. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah why?"

Uncertainly he asks, "Then uh, why are you-" he pauses. "Your left hand is covering your ear?"

"Oh that." I laugh. I take his left hand with my right, and bring it up to his ear. "Cup your hand and leave it there. It almost sounds like the ocean. Not exactly, but it's the closest sound I've got when I can't hear the waves."

His hand felt hard, and now my right hand is holding his wrist. I can feel his powerful tendons beneath my fingertips and out of no where I have the urge to trace them. Which is highly inappropriate and unnatural. I quickly remove my hand and keep it glued to my side.

Finnick's eyes look down at my hand then back up at me. "Don't be shy, I know you wanted to have a feel all along."

I flush, and comeback. "Not when you look ridiculous with your hand to your ear." It actually does look rather peculiar.

He laughs and points out while still keeping his hand to his ear, "Ah, but you are doing the exact same thing as me. In fact, you're the one who suggested I do this." Then his expression changes. "So when you say, not when I look ridiculous, are you saying you want to have a feel when I look handsome? Which is you know, all the time."

I remove my left hand and shake my head. "It never gets old for you, does it?"

"Not really." he shrugs. But he keeps his hand to his ear. "It's strangely comforting. This trick you do. I could be anywhere and have a fake ocean." Now he removes his hand. "So, if you didn't bring me here for," he thinks, "fun, and not to have a feel, why am I here?"

I look around and think of the life I had here. "I got to see both your homes. I thought it was only fair if I showed you one of mine."

Finnick nods and surveys the room again. "Did you like it here?"

The bed was stiff, sometimes I think my mother's voice haunted me from the sea, memories of Joln are in this room, but it was a good home. "I did. It was more than enough space for me, and I was grateful Binsen let me live here. There's a lot of memories in The Shack."

I'm not sure what he sees in this room, but it is different from most. Majority of people live in the standard dwellings which are all built the same. Considering Finnick's been in the rooms of various females throughout Four, I can't say if he seen a room like this before. He gives me a smile, "It's nice. Before the Victors' Village, the only room I had was filled with thirty other boys lying side by side on a mat on the ground. I don't remember the room I must have had when my parents were alive." Something comes to his mind. "I thought you said you lived with Yurol."

I nod. "I did." Again, I look around at the room which had generously been given to me. "I came to live with Yurol when I was thirteen." _That would have been the year Finnick was reaped. It was. I remember a few months later after my dad died, Finnick volunteered. So while I got a new home, he was leaving one. _"I moved out when I was sixteen. Minul's condition was worsening by then and I didn't want to burden her parents. They were struggling as it was. I'd been working here for three years, so I asked Binsen if I could rent out the room since no one used it. He agreed even though I'd never be able to fully compensate him." I explain, "I don't need to work here anymore. I live with Kenin, he pays for everything with his victor's salary, but I owe Binsen so much. And I want to do him good, you know?" I feel like I went off on a tangent, and slightly embarrassed, I awkwardly conclude. "So, that's how I came to live here."

Finnick smiles. "Well, I'm afraid I don't have quite the story you do. If you watched my game, you know how I came about my place." He sighs, "And as for the life before the Victors' Village and community home, that's something I don't talk about because I don't remember."

"You don't remember how your parents died?" I quietly ask.

"Not exactly." he confesses. "What I do remember though, I still don't talk about just as you don't talk about your life before Yurol."

"Fair enough." I say because he's right. But this brings up another topic. "I loss the agreement by the way. I lied earlier when I said I was fine."

Finnick disappointingly shakes his head with a grin. "And you were so sure that I would lose. But, I knew you were lying. Another rule; it doesn't count if a lie is told in the presence of people the speaker doesn't want listening."

So he's actually going along with this agreement? Fine by me. "Agreed." I tell him.

The piercing green sparkle in the dim light as I nod my head to the door indicating we should head back to our current homes. Finnick nods, and those intense green eyes briefly disappear as I flick the lights off.

* * *

Abruptly, I'm shaken out of my sleep and jostled into waking up. Kenin's blue eyes are inches away filled with urgency. His voice is frantic. "Annie, you need to come over. Something's wrong with Finnick."

Pushing Kenin away, I attempt to snuggle up in the couch. "Go away. I was actually getting good sle-"

"It's not a joke. I swear!" He says loudly. "Finnick won't stop screaming your name and I can't get him up. He's too violent for me to get near him."

I roll over and search his eyes for deceit. There's none. Although every inch feels groggy and slow, I force myself to run to Finnick's house and up the porch stairs. If this is another joke I am going to kill Finnick. And then Kenin. They will regr- Screams are coming through the front door. Finnick is screaming really loud. I open the front door, and look behind me but Kenin isn't there. It must not be a joke if he can't bear to be here.

Inside Finnick's house, the walls seem to be screaming at me but the source is from his bedroom. I take the stairs two at a time, nearly trip at the top and break my neck, but I make it to his bedroom where it feels as if my eardrums will pop. The scene is see more like that first night than the joke night. Finnick is thrashing around in his bed—naked, of course—all his tendons, veins, muscles stretched tight and rigid with tension. Most of the screams are wordless and earsplitting filled with utter dread, but I do catch my name between the roars.

"Finnick!" I attempt to yell above him. It's no use. I step a bit closer. "Finnick! Wake up! You're dreaming! It's Annie, I'm here!"

His head jerks to the side and smashes into the mattress, his eyes squeezed shut as he lets out another scream of anguish. Finnick's right hand swings up and punches a small hole in the wall, and that _still_ doesn't wake him up. He flails his arm, splattering the sheets with drops of blood, and he lets out a long scream of, "No!" He inhales violently, "No! Annie! Behind you! Look behind you!" a brief moment of silence, so tiny but it fills the air. Then, shattered by another, "No!"

Finnick is inhaling for another scream, and I use that silence for me to yell. "Finnick! It's Annie!"

He chokes on his breath and begins to sputter erratically, and after an awful burst of one final cough, Finnick wakes up. His chest heaves up and down inhaling so loudly that it almost sounds as if I can hear the air rushing past his lungs' flesh like a great vacuum. Periodically, Finnick—with an exhausted, sweat-slicked face underneath a mess of tangled hair— looks up at me and I know he's struggling to control his breathing, but it's just not possible at the moment. Every time he looks down, it's done in shame and I get he doesn't want me to see him this way.

"I'll get ice for your hand." I tell him so I have an excuse to leave. "I'll be right back."

Finnick looks grateful, and manages a nod. I walk down the stairs to delay my return giving him time to recover. The kitchen rag is hanging off a hook, and I grab that then open the freezer. However, the ice tray is empty and the only thing in his freezer is a bag of frozen fruits. I wrap it in the rag, and soon the outside cools drastically. This will have to do.

When I return, Finnick is sitting on the edge of his bed and what—with pants on! I stare at him and uncomfortably he asks, "What?"

Stunned, I reply, "You're wearing pants for once."

"Oh, that." he attempts to say with a chuckle, but he fails miserably.

I walk over to him and sit by his right side so I can apply the frozen fruits to his injured hand. My left hand takes his hand from underneath so I can hold it up and look at the wounds; my right hand positions the rag accordingly. It must hurt since it's bleeding rather profusely, but I guess it is nothing compared to the 65th Hunger Games.

My left forearm which is facing up can feel the sweat on Finnick's skin, and he's looking at the dark bruise again. Intentionally I press the rag down, and Finnick winces while leaning to right. "Careful."

"That was deliberate. What you did was accidental. Would it make you feel better if I pushed down harder again?"

Finnick raises his eyes to meet mine. "I'm the one who hurt you. That's not something you just push to the side."

I shake my head. "It was an accident Finnick. You need to get over it." I challenge him. "If anyone should be feeling bad, it's me. On my count I've hurt you three times deliberately. When I slapped you, let Yurol slap you, and just now."

He looks back down at my arm and lets out a one breath laugh. "Well when you put it that way." There's an internal debate inside his eyes, but he asks, "I guess I should forgive myself and let it go?"

With all my sincerity, I softly say. "You should." Finnick inhales a shallow breath. Unconsciously, his fingers curl around my left hand and I can feel soft tremors. Whether he knows it or not, he's still shaking inside. Consciously, I curl my fingers and let them rest on his skin. "What were you dreaming about?"

Every muscle in Finnick tenses, and he looks away. "A Hunger Games."

"Yours?"

"No." he quietly says. Then confused, he looks at me. "Yours."

"Mines?" I ask surprised. He nods and his expression is distorted with fear. Calmly I ask, "What happened?"

Dreams tend to be foggy and discombobulated, but I think with the victors the games amplify a dream's clarity. It explains the haunting I've seen in Finnick and Kenin. Finnick focuses on his breathing and slowly tells me. "You were in this wasteland. There were bones everywhere." he closes his eyes. "I don't remember how but many tributes died gruesome deaths. Worse than what is typical. And this guy." his fingers tighten. "This guy was coming up behind you. You were hiding behind this metal sheet looking through the holes. All I could do was scream from the mentoring room. Hoping you would somehow hear me. He had a knife." Finnick doesn't finnish. He just looks at me.

I tilt my head and let him know. "It's not real Finnick. I'm alive. I'm here. I haven't been reaped."

"But you could be." he says with a tone that sounds like he's also considering something else. "You all could be. You, Yurol, Joa. Kenin can't help them." Finnick doesn't sound like he's in the conversation now, he's clearly thinking about something else. "I can talk to him in five days."

"Talk with who?"

Finnick looks at me as if realizing I'm still here. The glossy appearance in his eyes disappears and he sees me again. "I'm thinking aloud. Sorry." He cracks his neck and flexes his right hand. "It feels better. Thanks."

I take my hands away and see that the bleeding has stopped but the skin around the cuts are an angry red. "No problem. Do you have gauze or anything to wrap it in?"

"In the bathroom. But I can get it."

"It's fine. I'm already up, I might as well help." Finnick is about to protest but I stop him before he can get started. "Just, accept my help okay?" I get off the bed and begin walking out, "You stood up for me in your own way when those girls were being rude. You didn't have to do that, but you did. So let me return the favor in my way."

He nods, and gives in. "It's underneath the sink to the left. The gauze."

I open the cabinet door, and find it in a container which was underneath a box of gloves. Armed with gauze, I go back to the bedroom and take a seat next to Finnick. He holds his hand up and I slowly wrap it around in various directions to ensure it will stick. With each wrap my fingers touch his smooth skin that has a slightly sticky texture from the drying sweat. When I finish, I tear the used section apart from the roll, and tuck the loose end beneath a layer.

"That should do it." I tell him.

He smiles. "Thanks."

My lips raise. "You're welcome."

Finnick opens the bag of fruits and pops a cherry into his mouth. It seems to relax him, and he holds the bag up. "You want some? The sugar helps."

"How so?" I take a blueberry and suck on it.

"I don't know." he shrugs and eats a raspberry. "I've always noticed I feel better when I get some sugar in me though." He may have a point. The blueberry's sweet yet tangy juice makes my tongue happy. I do feel more relaxed. And now the fatigue can creep up on me. Finnick senses I'm tired and says, "I don't mean to keep you here. Thanks for helping."

I take a cherry and chew around the seed. "Do you think you'll go back to sleep?"

Finnick retrieves a tied cherry stem from between his lips, "Not sure. I'll try."

"I can stay if you want." he raises his eyebrows with that playful expression. "I mean," I say emphatically, "in case you have another nightmare I can be here to wake you up. And besides, it'll help if you're not alone in the house right now. I'll sleep on the couch."

With disbelief he shakes his head. "What? No. I'll take the couch."

I give his shoulder a nudge and get up. "No offense Finnick, but I'm not sleeping in your bed. Especially when I know you sleep in the nude. Kenin will come back here, I'm sure. And the other room doesn't have a bed. So that leaves me with the couch. Which I already sleep on at Kenin's. It's not a big deal."

Finnick has gratitude displayed on his face. "You're pretty great, you know that?"

I'm in the doorframe and return the compliment. "So are you Finnick. You should know that too."

He smiles and calls out as I take the first step down. "Nice pants by the way."

I look down and see that I'm wearing a spaghetti strap shirt with small grey panties. My body twists as I turn back to look at him. "You just couldn't resist, could you?"

"Definitely not." he grins.

"Maybe we should both start wearing more clothes at night."

"Preferably not." he replies. "Does this mean you intend to spend more nights here. With me?"

"Goodnight Finnick." I call out and begin descending the stairs.

There's a hearty laugh. "Goodnight Annie."


	10. Chapter 10:65th Hunger Games—Annie's POV

**Really quick note: I'm going off of like 3 hours of sleep over the past two days, so I realize the part about the hunger games might be a bit rough and i'm going to read over it on here and make revisions. hope you enjoy and thanks for the reviews and to all my readers for following my story =] i appreciate all your support and the fact you guys have stayed with me this far (yes i realize i'm writing their story very slow, that's my point) ENJOY**

**random fact phsyc fact: according to my textbook, it's normal for people to hear noises or voice right before you fall asleep, any other time, it may be a symptom of a disorder**

* * *

**Chapter Ten: 65th Hunger Games**—**Annie's POV**

The wooden docks creak beneath my feet, and boats—tied to waterlogged posts—lazily float in the fluctuating surface. A few of the men, bringing in their fresh haul or departing with their boats, look my way curiously because obviously I'm not here to meet the day's quota. At the very edge of the dock, a tall figure stands looking out to the sea, arms crossed. I'm several yards away when they turn and see me approaching.

A smile breaks out on Finnick's face, and a bit surprised, he states. "You came."

"I told you I was going to think about it." I look around. "Where's Kenin?"

Finnick's face falls. "He uh, wanted to stay in."

I set the bag I'm carrying down and give him a disapproving look. "Did you trick me into thinking Kenin was actually coming when he wasn't?"

"What? No." he earnestly says. "He really was suppo-"

"I'm kidding Finnick." I laugh and eye him out. "You can relax."

Relieved, Finnick bends down and grabs my bag. "Making jokes now, are we?" He nods his head in the direction of a wide blue boat. "C'mon. I want to take you out to sea." We walk to his boat which is gently bobbing up and down, and nervously I look out to the vast stretch of water in front of us. I can do this. Maybe. Finnick lowers himself into the boat setting my bag down. "What's in here?"

"You'll see." I try to say confidently, but my voice breaks off at the end.

His green eyes say, _trust me_. Finnick holds his hand out, "You'll never know unless you try."

"Right." I mumble. I take a few steps forward, and bend my knees as I take his hand. Unsteadily, I put a foot down and the boat slightly rocks making me stiffen with fear.

Cautiously, Finnick puts a hand on my waist and helps me into the boat. "I got you."

He eases me to down on one of the two seats which stretch across the boat, meant to sit two people. My left hand clutches the seat, and my right grips the edge of the boat. Though the water may not be touching me, it is surrounding me and the panic rises. "Finnick, what if I can't do it? I've never been out to sea on a boat and I might not be able to handle this."

Simply he replies, "Then we'll turn back."

That calms me, and I let out a sharp breath. I close my eyes and slow my breathing. In. Out. Slower. In...Out... Methodically I inhale and exhale in slow deep breaths, and that agitated feeling which bubbles underneath the layers of skin begins to subside. Okay, I can do this. Then I hear Finnick softly wince, and the next thing I know it feels as if the boat is plunging downwards in midair. I let out a scream as the hull smacks the water and my eyes frantically open.

"It was a small wave Annie." Finnick lets me know, but I'm focused on the docks in the distance. When did we leave? There is water everywhere! It's completely surrounding me. One wrong move and it could envelop us. Suck us down to the bottom. Where the dead bodies lie. And the fish eat their eye. Underneath the blue sky. Slowly, a voice breaks through the repetitive endings, "Annie, look at me."

I'm breathing rapidly since all I can see is blue, and finally that piercing green comes into view. Strong arms are rowing the boat, veins and muscles clearly defined with each stroke. Am I still rhyming? I find my voice, "Tell me it's going to be okay."

Very certainly, Finnick assures me. "You're safe. There is nothing to fear."

"Nothing to fear." I say aloud. "Okay."

But I focus my eyes on the sparkling green. Light reflecting from the water—which is all round us—shines in Finnick's eyes. I don't mean to stare at him so intensely, but it's the only haven I have. He holds my gaze, never looking away. "Did you watch my game?"

"What?"

Patiently, he repeats. "Did you watch my game? The 65th Hunger Games."

I was still dealing with the death of my family, but I remember it. I may not have been as involved as other people were, but I watched most of it. "Yes."

"I was scared then. Terrified actually." he admits. "People think I tied those vine nets together in order to ensnare other tributes, but I really made those nets for the therapeutic process of tying knots. It just ended up that the nets became useful." Finnick stops rowing, and leans forward. "What I'm trying to say is that everyone fears something. I work through my anxiety by tying knots. You'll find something to help you overcome your fear of the ocean."

What Finnick told me is a big deal. I've gathered that victors don't usually talk about their game unless it's to another victor. Which I'm not. Kenin barely talks about his game to me. It can't be easy for Finnick to have brought this up. But it's definitely taken my mind off of my fear, and I know that was his intention even if it meant it was at his own expense. So, it doesn't feel like an obligation, just that it would be fair for me to tell Finnick my reason for fearing the ocean.

He's here with me. Everything is safe. I allow my eyes to wander to the side and observe the water only a foot away. "My baby brother drowned in his wash-bin. Then my mother walked into the sea and drowned herself. And then my father passed out in a bowl of spirits, and he drowned." I see my reflection in the water, and the wavering stunned reflection of Finnick. "I fear drowning more than anything. It seems like a terrible way to die because my entire family died that way."

"Annie." Finnick quietly says.

I turn back to him and give him a faint smile. "Things happen. I can't change the past. And, I have the Denfezes. While their parents and Minul did die, I have Yurol, Joa, and Kenin." I attempt to lighten the mood. "Kenin came back. He's alive. I'll get better one day because of them. And if I don't, it's not necessary for me to swim ever again."

Finnick smiles. "I'm glad you have them."

"You will too." I tell him. "Once things get better between Kenin, Yurol, and Joa. You've already adopted Kenin. The rest will follow."

He laughs and looks to the horizon. "I haven't been a part of a family for so long, I wouldn't know how."

I kick Finnick's foot with mine and his head jerks my way. "It's not a matter of knowing Finnick. If you care, that's all that matters."

Finnick considers this and shyly admits, "I care a lot."

"I know you do." I gently say. "You mean a lot to us too."

His face looks quizzical as if he didn't hear me correctly, and he opens his mouth to ask a question. But it dies on his lips and he shakes his head returning his focus to the horizon. Did I say something wrong? Should I not have told him we care? I think he has a hard time accepting kind words or actions. Because he must feel like he doesn't deserve anything good after what happened with his game. It was pretty bad from what I remember.

At the Cornucopia, Finnick and the Careers fought several tributes to establish their claim. A blonde with green eyes and bright pink lips gave an awful high pitched laugh when she sliced a boy's head in half diagonally. The other girl Career, also a blonde but with big brown eyes and high cheek bones, slammed her arm into a young girl's face causing the girl to be knocked down, and then she pressed her foot to the girl's throat and slowly pushed down crushing it until it was flat.

A stocky guy with black hair stuck a sword in another boy who had brown hair and grey eyes. He'd left him to bleed out, but after several minutes this Career stabbed him repeatedly until it was obvious the boy was dead. The other Career guy, who had brown hair and hazel eyes, killed a red haired guy by continuously bashing his head into the side of the Cornucopia where it left a ghastly smear of blood.

And Finnick. He had the most kills at Cornucopia. In fact, in the entire game and maybe even in the history of the Hunger Games. This guy from Three who created an electronic trap many games ago, killed all the remaining tributes in his game and may have killed one more person than Finnick. I can't remember exactly though. But Finnick definitely has the highest individual kills. At the Cornucopia he snapped this guy's neck and speared a girl through the heart. The other Careers except Emilia didn't see Finnick make these kills, and he pretended other tributes had killed the people he did.

No one in our district was sure why Finnick didn't take credit for those kills until his victor's interview when he explained to Caesar if he had taken credit, the other Careers would have seen him as a threat. Which was why he always wandered off during their alliance because he'd worked it out with Mags that she should only send him parachutes when the other Careers except Emilia weren't around. If they'd known he was getting a lot of extra help, they would have made him their first priority.

On the third day, the blonde with green eyes killed another girl by smothering her in sand which was designed to burn as hot as a stove. The blonde stood on these rocks in the shade, and forced the girl's head into a hole which had been dug up by a sword, and then very slowly the blonde slowly pushed the sand back into the hole. On the next day, the same girl killed this blonde girl with blue eyes by physically assaulting the girl until she was guided towards a cliff and was then shoved off where she fell to her death upon these jagged rocks.

Finnick killed this guy within seconds by spearing him on the fifth day. Later that day, he also speared this girl. The games were set into action that night. We watched as seven tributes were electrocuted by some entrapment, and the next scene of Finnick was in darkness. Between this time lapse which we never saw, Finnick described it in his interview. The Careers we're eating around a campfire when seven canons boomed. He was the first to react. He'd grabbed Emilia's hand, and threw the other Careers' blankets onto the fire smothering the flames. Without the fire it was pitch black, but diligent as he was throughout the entire games, Finnick always had an escape. He'd lead Emilia through the darkness until they reached a cave he'd discovered a few days back. There, the cameras could only pick up their voices.

He explained to Emilia, six people were killed at the Cornucopia, the blonde had killed two more after that, today he killed two more people, then there were seven canons. She didn't understand because no one was constantly counting the number of dead tributes as he was—later in his interview, Finnick told Caesar the reason he'd reacted so quickly to the seven booms was because the number of deaths ran through his mind every few minutes, so the moment he heard those seven booms he knew. The Careers had killed ten people, someone or something killed seven people all at once, leaving one person against six Careers. The Careers alliance would not hold with six people. And the first to be turned against would be Four considering One and Two usually have stronger alliances together than any other district.

The next day when Finnick woke up early and went outside the cave to look for food and water, the Careers stumbled upon the cave by sheer luck and found Emilia sleeping. Furious she and Finnick had left them, they beat her badly and waited for Finnick to return. He was gone for a few hours because he was knotting those nets he mentioned earlier. Unaware of the danger, Finnick carried the vast net back and then saw the Careers through a clearing. You could tell by the look on his face that he was about to go up against them, four to one while he only had a spear.

That's when the parachute came. The box was large and everyone at The Shack had begun murmuring because no tribute has ever received a gift that big. All of us could only wonder what was inside. The moment he opened the box and pulled out the trident, we all knew he was coming back to Four. Even before he became victor it was well known throughout Four that Finnick had no competition when wielding a trident. He had let the spear drop and you could see by the way he balanced trident in his hand that it was his destined weapon.

Without hesitating, Finnick ran towards the Careers who futilely shot arrows and threw knives at him which he easily evaded with a few twists and turns of the trident. The last sword which was thrown, Finnick had caught between the prongs and he spun the trident with ease allowing the momentum to keep the sword in place, and with one flick of his wrist, he'd stopped the trident and sent the sword into the green eyed blonde's head. The look in his eyes told the Careers he'd hit his intended mark and it was not dumb luck. They hesitated, and Finnick used this time to throw his net across the stocky Career, who became entangled in it, and then he yanked the net towards himself causing the stocky guy to jerk forward and land near Finnick's feet. From there, Finnick sank his trident into boy's back.

Finnick ran to his body, and while he pulled the trident out, the brown eyed blonde hastily threw a dagger at him. He didn't have complete access to the trident so he couldn't avoid the throw, but Finnick used his left arm as a shield and the knife buried into his bicep. The girl and last guy began to run, but Finnick speared the girl as she and the guy disappeared into the trees. He ran over there and retrieved the trident from her body leaving her to bleed out.

In the cave, the sound of three canons echoed. Emilia was bleeding from injuries all over her body, and terrified sobs wracked her body. For several hours, Finnick applied pressure on her stomach which had been torn open, but by nightfall she asked him to remove his hands. He refused for nearly an hour before she told him she was in so much agony and the best thing he could do for her was to let her die. After that, Finnick didn't sleep. He went out into the dead of night and began to track the last two tributes.

In the early morning he found the last Career sleeping underneath a covering of plants, and Finnick threw his net over the plants, tangling everything inside, and he threw his trident. It was in the afternoon when he met the last tribute. He was walking through the trees when he stepped on this silver wire, realized what it was, and before he could withdraw his foot, a girl with thick rubber gloves touched the end of the wire to a large battery. His shoe was barely touching the wire, but it knocked him off his feet while he dropped his trident and net on the wires in front. The net sounded like it was being fried and an angry electrical buzz came from the trident.

You could see from Finnick's point of view, on the ground, that silver wires were also on the ground hidden beneath the layers of vegetation, and we realized how the girl had electrocuted seven tributes all at once. She simply waited until everyone was within range of being shocked. The cameras showed the girl remove the wire from the large battery, and she emerged from her hiding place. Finnick stared at her in amazement as she walked across the now safe wires. His entire body looked stiff with pain, you could see veins protruding in his neck and forehead, and his eyes were opened wide in pain while his face was a deep red.

Unconcerned, the girl grabbed Finnick by his arms with her gloves still on, and dragged him onto the wires so that his body would get the full blast. So close to winning, she became arrogant and that was her downfall. She saw the trident next to Finnick's arm, but he was still weak and in pain so she figured he wouldn't be able to lift it let alone throw it. What she didn't take into account was Finnick's net. The girl turned her back and walked to the battery. Finnick's hands had managed to grasp the net, and when her footing was right, he yanked the net harshly. The girl's feet caught in the gaps, and she fell down smacking her head on the ground.

By this time, he'd recovered some strength and sat up; hands on his trident. Frantically the girl crawled forward to reach the battery several feet in front. When she was only a fingertip's length away and out of the wire zone, Finnick had enough strength to toss the net one last time, pull it backwards, and sink his trident into her body. Then the canon boomed. And it was over.

That's how Finnick got here. That's what it took for him to be here. Sitting in front of me. Still alive. Like Kenin. They have both endured so much. Too much. Just like all the other victors. It breaks my heart. Finnick glances at me and catches my stare. "Yes?"

"I was just thinking." I tell him.

He waits a few seconds. "About what?"

I don't want to say it, but it's the truth. "Your game."

"And how's that going for you?"

"It's terrible."

Finnick nods. "I know."

I lean forward and rest my hand on his knee. "Not because you're a terrible person." he gives a bitter laugh and shakes his head clearly thinking I've lost my mind. I speak the way I do to any of the Denfezes when it's appropriate; the utter truth and no fluff. "You did terrible things in your game Finnick. It would be stupid to deny that." he nods in agreement. "All the tributes you killed though, you're not responsible for their deaths. You know who is, so you shouldn't blame yourself."

Finnick puts his hand on mine, but continues to stare out at the horizon. It's nice to have his hand there, and I'm sure if I was having a problem I could draw comfort from this contact. He's possibly doing just that right now so I keep my hand there and stare at the horizon with him. The blue of the sky and of the water contrast as they meet as far as they eye can see, and the gentle rocking of the boat soothes my nerves. It's incredibly beautiful out here, but I am glad I'm not in the water.

It would only bring up terrible memories and I can't say Finnick would be able to comfort me much then. Finnick gives my hand a squeeze, then begins taking his shirt off. This motion ruffles his bronze hair, and he grins. "I need to go in for a dip. It helps clear my mind."

Very gracefully, he leaps out of the boat barely causing it to rock, and makes a clean dive into the water. A few droplets splash me, but I can tolerate it. But then a minute passes and Finnick hasn't surfaced. I twist and turn my body looking around but there's no sign of him. _You're overreacting. Water is your fear. It's not his._ By three minutes though, I'm fighting hysteria. At four, my throat is raw from screaming.

"Finnick!" I scream at an empty ocean. We're on the other side from where the boats go to fish, and I don't think my voice carries that far. But it's all I hear. And silence. "Finnick!" Tears are rolling down my cheeks and blurring my vision. The panic is suffocating me, and my head is dizzy. He's gone. It's impossible. He was just here. I let out another scream and my voice sounds terribly broken. "Finnick!" Not again. This _cannot_ be happening again.

I was just getting to know him. To know him! Not in the way he does with other girls, but actually know him as a person. Maybe it would have been nothing. Maybe we would have grown to be good friends like brother and sister. Maybe we would have fallen apart and went our separate ways. Maybe we would have ended up having our only connection be Kenin. But what if it had been different. He showed me a side that other people don't see. I was able to talk to him about my family. Express my emotions openly without holding back. These were things I noticed before, but didn't have to acknowledge because he was always there. But now. Now.

"What's wrong?" a concerned voice asks from the side.

My head snaps in the direction of Finnick's voice, and I see his stupid face with his stupid green eyes and his stupid messy hair and his stupidly handsome appearance. I begin yelling at him, "Did you think that was funny? To scare me that way? After I told you my entire family drowned. Especially after I told you that!"

Finnick swims to the side of the boat and attempts to put a hand on mine, but I snatch it away. He backs off and calmly says. "I'm sorry, I didn't think about the drowning thing. I went diving to search the ocean floor."

"What?" I stupidly ask.

There's a small-shiny-thick-translucent-white-cone shell laced with piercing light pink running along the spirals in Finnick's right palm. Drops of water cling to my skin when he places it in my hand, and Finnick runs a hand through his hair causing it to stick up. "If you know where to look, you can find beautiful shells."

I wipe the tears from my eyes, embarrassed, and hold my hand out. "Well I hope the girl you give it to likes it because it caused me great distress."

He laughs and curiously asks, "What do you think she'll think of the shell?"

I personally want to crush this shell between my hands because not only am I embarrassed, not only did it temporarily yet significantly impair my mentality, but it brought up things better left to the side because they were stupid thoughts. This stupid little shell caused _this,_ this mess. Me. That's what I want to do. To crush it. But it doesn't describe the shell.

Finnick is waiting for my answer, and he's holding onto the side of the boat, head resting on his hands. I turn the shell over in my hand and say, "It's extraordinary. I've never seen white and pink mixed together this way. And the colors aren't solid. I like that." I hold my hand out, "It's gorgeous Finnick. You should let her know what you had to do to get it. Swimming down to the bottom of the ocean for more than four minutes. Complete insanity, but you should still tell her."

He swims backwards leaving me with this stupid shell, and then calls out. "I already did."

Finnick ducks under, and I'm left here annoyed. Already did? There's no one else here! What, he swam to shore and already told her too? He can swim as fast a dolphin? Impossible. He couldn't have told anyone else. He's the only one here with me—oh... Stupidly I hold the shell in my palm and examine it again. I don't want to crush it anymore.

New tears start to fall and I quickly wipe them away. I don't need Finnick asking why I'm crying again because I wouldn't want to tell him and can't bring myself to think it. Carefully I place the shell in my pocket and keep it there for safekeeping. Several minutes pass before Finnick resurfaces, and I've done a good job at controlling the panic by believing he's okay and he'll come back to me.

Cautiously he approaches the boat and jokingly asks, "I'm not going to get yelled at again, am I?"

"No," I tell him, "you're not. I'm sorry I yelled at you before."

"Don't worry about it." he laughs, "It's understandable."

I touch his fingertips with mine and quietly say, "Thank you. For the shell."

There's an itch in his eyes for him to look at our fingers, but he keeps his gaze straight ahead at me. "Your welcome."

Unintentionally I stroke his fingernail and let my fingertips trace his skin. It becomes a serious moment which overwhelms me and I have to break it. Turning away, I lean back and grab my bag. "I have something for you too."

"Oh yeah?" he asks in a different tone I've never heard.

I pull out a bottle and hand it to him. "Here."

Finnick raises an eyebrow. "I didn't realize you wanted to get me drunk."

I roll my eyes. "Whatever. Just take a sip."

"Is it poison?"

"No." I indignantly say. "And it's not spirits, I don't drink."

Finnick unscrews the cap and raises it to his mouth. "That makes you the better one of us." When he takes a sip, his eyes light up as expected. "It's that drink."

I nod. "The one I hate. But I knew you would appreciate it. You took me out on your boat, it's the least I could do."

He's grinning like a child and takes a huge gulp and I get that sick feeling thinking about the taste. "I could drink this all day."

"That's disgusting."

"To most." he takes another sip and swishes it around in his mouth emphatically. "Mmm." Finnick screws the cap back on and places it in the boat. "That's just what I needed."

I'm looking at his flawless body and that's when it strikes me. His body is flawless. Not the way other girls think of him, as a god, but literally flawless. No scars, no marks, no discolored skin where his injuries should be. It's so strange. "Finnick?"

"Yeah?" he cheerfully responds while pacing from one end of the boat to the other.

"Why is your skin flawless?"

"Because of good genetics." he presumptuously jokes.

I laugh and give him an exasperated shake of my head. "I mean, you don't have any scars where you were injured."

Finnick stops swimming and looks at his thick bicep. It takes him a few minutes to respond which is fine because I know he's gone there in his head. He continues looking at the area where that girl threw her dagger at him, but he explains. "When they got me out of the arena, I was taken to a medical room. They fixed me up and got rid of all my scars. Imperfections as they called it."

"We're you in bad shape when they got you out?"

"I was." he says casually and looks up at me. "Getting electrocuted messed me up inside. My nervous system was shutting down, my organs failing. The knife wound was the least harmful. Aside from the infection. But it wasn't serious." he sighs. "And then they did their works on me and I was better. Stronger. No infection. And as you said it, not me, I was flawless."

I think about Kenin. "Do they do that to all the victors?"

Finnick nods. "Yeah. It's not a good image as the Capitol puts it." he shakes his head and laughs. "The only difference the Capitol likes is when victors get alterations to their body." Enobaria and her golden tipped fangs come to mind and I shudder. We must be thinking of the same person because Finnick agrees. "Yup, like her."

The sun is beating down on me and I feel sweat collecting on my forehead. I wipe it away and look at the water. It must feel nice. And Finnick seems to be greatly enjoying the water, I don't want to spoil his fun because I have a heatstroke. Maybe I can do it.

Tentatively I say, "Finnick, it's been almost five years since I've gone swimming."

He's not sure why I'm saying this, but he goes along with it. "That's a long time."

"It is. And I'm terrified out of my mind." I tell him. "But, maybe I should give it a try."

"Swimming?"

"Yeah." I say nervously.

Finnick tilts his head and beads of water drop into the ocean. "You don't need to face it right away." But he encouragingly adds, "It is nice in here though."

I stick my hand in the ocean and the cool water takes a few degrees off from this heat. I swing my legs over the side and let my feet sink beneath the surface. It feels so good. The water rises to my calves. Finnick is watching me with a grin and I ask, "What?"

"Nothing." he says. "You're doing great. You even seem to be enjoying it."

I laugh. "We'll see when the water rises." I use my arms to keep me above the water, and I slowly submerge my legs completely. My arms begin to shake from the strain of slowly submerging myself, and I lower myself more so that the water rises to my waist. I'm somewhat clinging to the side of the boat and beside me Finnick is treading water.

He laughs. "Your dress is like a jellyfish."

I look down and see that my dress is floating on the surface and billowing out around me. Then my hand slips, but before I fall into the water, before I feel any fear, powerful arms are wrapped around me keeping my head above water. I'm pressed against Finnick's chest, and his right arm moves away as he grabs the side of the boat, his left arm still tightly holding me.

Worried, he asks. "Are you okay?"

I'm aware that the water is at my chest occasionally touching my neck and throat. Almost half of my hair is wet and it floats around us like tangled seaweed. But I'm okay. I don't feel panic, I don't feel scared. I tilt my head away so I can get a look at Finnick and tell him. "I'm okay."

Finnick's heart is beating against my chest, and I can feel the strength in every muscle touching my skin. I don't want to move away because I am certain he's the only thing keeping me calm, and Finnick doesn't indicate he wants to move away either. His green eyes sees me. With an assuring voice, Finnick states. "We'll stay like this."

"Like this." I confirm. Beneath me, his legs are treading the water to help keep us afloat but they're working slower than usual since he is holding onto the boat. But even then, I can feel the power in them. Many victors end up wasting away, yet Finnick is in shape. "How did you keep your body strong after the games?"

Very subtly, Finnick's body tenses. I can feel the movements of his muscles as he swallows. "I uh, have many work outs. And I walk around Four a lot, go swimming, diving. Only drink in the Capitol. Haven't turned to medications. I survived the Hunger Games. Seems like a waste to fight so brutally in order to live then let my body deteriorate from spirits or drugs or lack of exercise."

I rest my head against his shoulder, my cheek gets wet, and underneath my cheek I can feel and hear Finnick's heartbeat. A slightly fast, _pump-pump pump-pump pump-pump._ At least that's what it reminds me of. I'm not sure how long we stay this way, but I do notice my cheek is pressed to his chest now instead of being at his shoulder and I take this as Finnick's arm is tiring. However, when I look up I see that Finnick has fallen asleep. He has a fierce grip on the side of the boat, and his left arm is still securely holding me with a gradual slip. So even in his sleep when he's not having nightmares, Finnick is considerably, and by that I mean really, strong.

"Finnick." I whisper.

Groggily he responds, "Mm, yeah?"

"I think we should get back in the boat."

Finnick opens his eyes and looks at me still in his arm. "I think so too." He helps me back into the boat, and then dunks his head underwater. When his head breaks the surface, Finnick cheerfully says, "Alright. I'm awake." But I can tell he's tired. His hands grip the side of the boat, and he hauls himself up with those flexing arms. Suppressing a yawn, Finnick begins to row. I unscrew the bottle, hold it near his mouth, and he opens wide so I can tip the Sweet Burst in. Finnick nods to indicate it's enough and he gulps the rest down. "Thanks. I feel better."

"This was fun." I tell him.

"It was." Finnick agrees. "I'm glad you came."

I look behind us at our spot, and the rising cliff next to it. I'd always sat on that cliff, but never went into the water below. Until now. "I am too." I put my hand on my pocket feeling for the reminderance I'll have of this day, but there's nothing there. I feel my other pocket. It's empty. The shell must have fallen out when my dress got wet. "Oh no."

"What?" Finnick quickly asks.

"The shell. It's gone."

Finnick jokes, "Tossed it into the ocean, did you?"

"No." I desperately say, and feel my pockets again. "I can't believe it's gone."

Seriously, Finnick tells me. "It's okay Annie, I know it's not like you actually threw it away. Don't worry about it."

This time I don't say anything because I'm afraid I'll cry. And it's a stupid thing to cry over. It really is. But that's how I feel inside, and I want to cry over losing that stupid shell. It's such a silly thing. But there it is. My shell has dropped back down to be claimed by the ocean floor. So I look away, at the horizon, because I'm afraid I'll cry.

* * *

"Where have you been?" Joa asks me in the kitchen.

I take a sip of my water. "What do you mean?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. I feel like I haven't seen you around lately."

I've been spending so much time at Finnick's house that I actually haven't been around Joa. Yesterday we went to the beach where I lost that stupid shell, the day before I spent most of my day with Kenin at Finnick's house, and the day before, I'd worked then slept over Finnick's when he had his nightmare. And the days before? Spent with Kenin at Finnick's house. This entire month I must have only slept here for a week total.

I walk over and put an arm around Joa. "We'll hang out tonight. I promise."

"Alright." he says, and I can tell he's pleased.

For three hours we build a ship model composed of tiny pieces, and as I attempt to put two parts together, they _snap_. Like a hawk, Joa's head jerks in my direction. "That's the sixth piece Annie."

"You're counting?" I guiltily ask, holding the broken pieces.

He holds his hands out and I put the broken parts in his palm. "I need to. Each piece you break, I need to fix."

"Well this is hard." I say to defend myself.

We begin laughing, and Yurol comes down the stairs, hair wet and in pajamas. She dresses more modestly than I do at night. "It's looking good."

"Except Annie keeps breaking all the pieces!" Joa rats me out.

"Annie!" Yurol exclaims.

I throw the box at her. "Oh whatever."

She laughs and goes into the kitchen returning with a glass of this gross green drink. Yurol's finished about half of her drink, and I've broken two more pieces when the sound of keys inserting into the lock are heard, and the door swings inward revealing Kenin.

He takes in the sight of everyone except him engaging in this family moment. I detect the sadness in his blue eyes, and he runs a hand through his shaggy hair. "Hey."

Joa puts down the broken piece he's holding, and softly says. "Hey."

Yurol doesn't know what to say because this is the first time since Kenin left for Finnick's that he's come over when everyone is up. He's always come over when I'm the only one downstairs. She keeps staring at him, afraid any move will be the wrong one. Kenin knows they've been attempting to walk on fish eggs around him, but he doesn't want that. He wants them to act as they normally would. Defensively, Kenin says. "If I'm intruding I can leave."

Now Yurol finds her voice. "You can't intrude on your own family Kenin. And, this is your house."

"Do you want to help us build this ship?" Joa asks.

Kenin silently nods, and closes the door. "What happened here?"

"Annie, she broke eight pieces in three hours."

"Thanks for telling on me again!" I say loudly, and ruffle his hair.

This makes Kenin smile, and he takes a piece in his hand looking it over. "How do you know what to do?"

Joa slides a sheet of paper, near the edge of the table, over. "These are the instructions."

While Kenin looks the instructions over, I glue on another piece and then reach for a new one. I swear, all I did was grab it, but this curved shaped piece _snaps_. Kenin and Joa both look at me with disbelief. I see the mock in Kenin's expression. "I'm here one minute and you break _another_ one."

"That was not my fault. You saw me Yurol." I look behind me and see her smiling.

Yurol walks over, setting her glass on the table and takes the broken pieces. "I don't know Annie. Nine pieces already. That's pretty bad."

It's a bit tense for about thirty minutes, but when we've reached one hour, everyone seems pretty relaxed. I saw Finnick watching us for a minute or so before he left the window's view. I'm in the kitchen getting a glass of water, and Kenin enters after giving a playful insult to Yurol and Joa. Quietly I tell him, "I'm glad you decided to come over."

"It's not like I really had a choice." Kenin tells me. "But I'm glad it worked out this way."

"What do you mean?"

"That I'm glad it worked out?"

I shake my head. "When you say you didn't have a choice."

Kenin nods understanding my question. "Oh, well Finnick told me he wanted to be alone tonight if I thought I could handle coming back here. It also feels like it's time I started trying to make an effort. I'm not so angry now."

I give Kenin a hug, and he returns it just as warmly. "It's okay to be angry. Even if it hurts them. They'll understand. Or at least try to." Kenin nods beneath my head. "Do you know why Finnick wanted to be alone?"

"You don't know? It's on the screens."

"I don't watch the screens unless it's a Hunger Games. Except I watched everything for yours."

Kenin disbelievingly says, "I can't believe you don't know. Al the girls are making a big deal over it, and all the guys are acting brave."

"Know what Kenin?"

"The 65th Hunger Games. They're screening it tonight."

I'm shocked. "When?"

"In ten minutes. We're ahead of the Capitol by a few hours, that's why it's being screened so late."

I tell Kenin. "I'll be right back. I'm going to go over Finnick's."

He's about to say something, and I know he's going to tell me 'but Finnick asked him to leave', but then Kenin just nods. "Alright."

On the way out, I tell Yurol and Joa. "I'm going to Finnick's. Really quick."

In seconds I'm standing on Finnick's porch, and I knock on the door. The door begins to open and Finnick is saying, "I thought things were going well over ther—Annie?"

"Hi." I say.

"Look, it's not a good time."

I nod. "I just wanted to see how you were doing. I didn't know they were screening the game tonight."

Finnick sighs. "They are. To my _great_ pleasure. So many people celebrate it like damn fools. They don't see it for what it is."

He's leaning against the doorframe, sticking his upper body out, the door more closed than open. I get it, he doesn't want me to be here either. So I just let him know, "If you ever want company, you know where I'll be."

But this time, Finnick doesn't say it's best if I leave. He makes an excuse. "I wouldn't be good company, you know? I would barely realize you're there for most of the time so what would be the point?"

Not pressingly, I say. "Sometimes, when your mind wanders or goes into its own place, it's nice to have a person there when your mind returns. Yurol did that for me, and I do that for Kenin. Why would it be any different for you?"

It's like he wants to send me away, but he doesn't want me to leave. Finnick looks back at the place where his clock would be, and I assume it's only minutes away from the screening. After a long sigh, Finnick opens the door and steps back so I have enough space to come in. There's already regret on his face, anxiety, doubt, but also the need to not be alone. It seems the latter won. With one minute until his game starts, we head to his couch and Finnick moves around his set up of a blanket and a pillow, giving us room to sit by each other. He turns on his screen, and that familiar anthem begins indicating the first screening of the 65th Hunger Games is about to begin.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed it! Next chapter will be entirely from Finnick's perspective about his Hunger Games and will be written as if time has rewound and it's never happened before.


	11. Chapter 11:Before 65th HG--Finnick POV

**So I know I said the next chapter would be about the 65th Hunger Games, but I ended up writing about everything that led up to that point, so the next chapter truly begins with the games. thanks to all my readers, i appreciate the support and the fact you guys have been following me with all my chapters, and i know this chapter has nothing to do with annie and finnick so i'm sorry for that. but it gives more insight to finnick =] hope you enjoy, but honestly, you can expect no finnick & annie in the next chapter either. this will be the only time that ever happens. it just doesn't fit the way i want to write it. (i also still have not had good sleep yet for like the past 5 days, so i need to go back and reread things so if its really terrible, sorry. but i don't have time to fix it now)**

**random psych fact: an excess of dopamine (a neurotransmitter or chemical message meant to increase pleasure in the brain) is linked to schizophrenia.**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Moments Before the 65th Hunger Games**—**Finnick's POV**

"I volunteer." I say loudly so everyone within the town square will hear me. I say it confidently so that all of Panem will see me as the strong Career I am meant to be. "I volunteer as Four's boy tribute."

All these heads turn and thousands of eyes are upon me. Of course it doesn't come as a surprise that I would eventually volunteer. I'm Finnick Odair, known for wielding the trident with a skill which has no comparison. But no one expected me to volunteer so young. At fourteen, no tribute has ever been crowned victor in the history of the Hunger Games. None of this matters though. Living at the community homes is no longer an option for me. It's live or die now. And if it's die, so be it.

With my head held high and powerful strides, I make my way to the stage and shake hands with the girl tribute, Emilia Sergin. Our escort, Linthia, is a grotesque woman with multi-colored jewels implanted into her skin and yellow hair the color of severely dehydrated pee. I contain my grimace at her hideous smile which reveals jewel studded teeth with the jewels having been surgically inserted in the middle of each tooth. "Ladies and gentlemen of District Four, I present to you the honored tributes for the 65th Hunger Games."

As expected, clapping erupts and I see the look of relief on many faces. And within the crowd, I also see the devastated expressions of the affected friends and family. None of it's for me though. The grief is entirely for Emilia. I have no one within Four. So if I don't return, it doesn't really matter.

No one comes to see me in the Justice Building, and on the train I see Emilia standing outside the door where our mentors and escort are. Her eyes are swollen and face blotchy, but I pretend not to notice this. Quietly I ask, "What are you doing?"

"Listening." she whispers back. "They're talking about you. It seems like you're the one who has the odds in their favor."

"What are you talking about?"

Emilia motions for me to come over, so I do. Then I can hear their voices. The shrill voice belongs to Linthia. "-boy tribute will do just fine. He will have no problem getting sponsors, oh no, not with his looks." We can hear her strut around the room with each _click_ of her heel. "The girl on the other hand, it won't be so easy. She's not ugly, but she's not a looker. No one will sponsor her based off of looks. And who's to say if she has any talent."

Sam's voice slurs, "It doesn't matter. Four usually gets in with the Careers. She may have a chance because of that."

"Perhaps." Linthia considers. "But don't count on it. It would be best to direct all your sponsors to the boy. Finnick Odair."

Mags rudely says, "We don't cast aside our own based off of superficial appearances you Capitol freak. If we did that, and you lived with us looking like that, you would be the first to be fed to the sharks."

Emilia turns to me. "Is she allowed to speak to our escort that way?"

Sam just laughs. "You're funny Mags."

"Why? What did she say?" Linthia sharply asks.

_What? She didn't understand Mags? How is that possible? _ Sam brushes her off, "Nothing. An old Four joke." I assume he's taking a drink because there's a pause and I hear a glass being set back down on the table. "We don't play favorites Linthia. They're our tributes. All of them deserve an equal chance."

"All I'm saying," Linthia says in an authoritative voice, "is that your sponsors will go to waste if you support that girl."

"Her name is Emilia." Mags says. "Would it kill you to learn her name?"

Linthia sighs exasperatedly. "Mags, you know I can't understand you. There's no point in talking."

Sam speaks up for Mags. "The girl's name is Emilia."

"What?" Linthia sharply asks.

"The girl, her name is Emilia."

"I don't care." Linthia snaps.

"You should." Mags chuckles, and then the door to their compartment slides open revealing Emilia and I eavesdropping. Linthia turns bright red and busies herself with fluffing her pee colored hair, Sam just shakes his head and pours himself another glass, and Mags motions for us to come in. "How long were you there?"

Stiffly, Emilia replies. "Long enough."

When Mags moves out of the way, both Emilia and I freeze. There are plates of food covering the tables. Exotic foods neither of us have ever seen before. Little pastries covered in gel, pastries that have hundreds of layers of flakes, pastries with fruits and cream. Meats covered in various sauces, warmed in a metal containers raised above a small flame. I'm not sure how Emilia's family fairs, but coming from the community homes where I eat—ate, this gray slop and had that bland brown fish once a week, this is an amazing feast I couldn't have dreamt up. I didn't know such food existed.

I'm not listening to any of the adults, instead I'm standing at the tables grabbing the food and stuffing my mouth. If I'm going to die, I might as well enjoy what I can before that happens. The pastries taste so different than anything I've ever had, but I can't describe the taste. But it fills my mouth and leaves a pleasant feeling. I turn to the mentors. "What's in here?"

"Creams, fruits, other fillings."

"I know that." I eat another one. "But it tastes different. Very pleasant. It's like the opposite of salty."

Mags asks, "You mean sweet. There's sugar in it."

I've heard of sugar before and that it tasted good, but I never experienced eating something sweet. Sweet. What a pleasant word. I am going to eat as much as I can while I can. And if I somehow survive, I will consume large quantities of _sweet_ tasting foods. Half an hour later, I've had my fill and take a seat among Emilia and the mentors. Linthia is standing to the side, creepily keeping her eyes on me.

"Glad you finally decided to join us Finnick. Had your fill of sugar?" Sam's asks.

I pat my stomach. "Yup."

"I was talking to Emilia about her strengths. What are yours?"

I shrug. "I'm good with a trident. I guess I would be alright with another weapon like a spear."

Mags shakes her head. "I doubt there will be a trident in the game. They've never put that in the Cornucopia before. But a spear will definitely be there."

"We want you to get in with the Careers. Usually they team up with Four but it's not definite. One and Two will always make an alliance and if you get excluded from that, your chances of survival will be greatly reduced." Sam tells us.

I interject. "What if I don't want to get _in_ with the Careers?"

Sam snorts. "And why would you want to do that? Think you're better than them just because you're good with a trident?"

"No." I say slowly as if he was a toddler and I know when I speak to people that way it's extremely annoying. "But I think we would be better off without them. Like you said, One and Two always team up. When the alliance begins to fall apart, who do you think they'll turn on first?"

Angrily Sam snaps, "That's why you need to be able to decide when it's time to leave. You don't stick around until the alliance completely falls apart."

Emilia speaks up. "I want to join the Careers if I can. They'll help my chances of survival. And like Sam said, we'll just leave when it's time."

"Both of you make it sound so easy." I tell them. But then I shrug, "Alright. It doesn't really matter to me."

"That attitude is going to get you killed Finnick." Sam warns. "Arrogance has always been the reason why One and Two lose when they do."

Cockily I counter, "Ah, well it's a good thing then that I'm not _from_ One of Two isn't it?"

This makes Mags smile, but she doesn't say anything. Sam gives up, and takes a long gulp finishing off his glass before pouring yet another one. And Linthia, she's still staring. She must be at least seven years older than me and that just makes it weird. Emilia is nervously tapping the table with her fingers, and looking around. I look out the window and see vastly different vegetation than what you would see in Four.

Linthia sees me staring out the window, and says, "We'll be in the Capitol tomorrow. You'll see what a beautiful place it is. Much better than the green of plants and trees. The white just glows in the sunlight." I'm not sure what to say so I give Linthia a forced smile and this seems to please her. "I think we'll use the angle of: The heart throb who has it all."

"You know it love." Is my immediate response and I have no idea where it came from.

Sure I flaunted around with the girls who lived at the community homes. Sure I snuck away with them in the dead of night and returned satisfied in the early morning. Sure I am rather experienced for my age. But everything I know about girls pertains to those near my age range. I haven't been in a situation where I flirt with a woman. I may look older because I'm tall and masculinely physically attractive, but I am really young. And it's so strange I just flirted with this Capitol freak.

Linthia responds by fanning herself with a sheet of paper . Annoyed, Sam growls and mutters something about finishing his drink in private and leaves the room with a bottle of light blue spirits. Mags bids us goodnight, and not wanting to be left alone with Linthia, I suggest to Emilia. "I'm tired. Are you?"

She catches my drift and helps me out. "I am. Let's go to our rooms."

"I can show you your room Finnick." Linthia chirps.

I've turned my back to her, and Emilia is looking at me while I make a terrified face. Casually, Emilia tells Linthia. "Sorry, he's supposed to spend the night with me."

And then Emilia leaves, and I'm standing here awkwardly with Linthia and her sad freakish face. Apologetically I tell her while backing away. "You were correct when you called me a heart throb love. You haven't known passion until you've been with me. See you later gorgeous."

Linthia watches as I slide the compartment door open and walk through Emilia's empty doorframe. Emilia pushes the door shut behind me, and stands with her back pressed against it. "Now what?"

"We _could_ have fun to kill time." I suggest with a grin. Emilia crosses her arm and stays put. "Or not."

Bluntly she tells me. "I've heard about you Finnick."

"Really?" I smile and take a seat on her bed, running my hands across the sheet. She can't be more than a year older. "All good I'm assuming?"

"You think you're so great."

"In bed? Definitely."

Emilia's eyes fill with tears. "How can you act so carefree? Are you not scared?"

She's upset and not having my flirtatious attitude. I drop the act and shrug. "I volunteered. I know what I'm getting into."

"Well I didn't. I didn't want any of this." Tears drip down her face, and she doesn't bother to wipe them away. Little by little Emilia sinks to the ground, pulling her knees to her chest. "How could you volunteer?"

I get off the bed and take a seat next to her. "There's nothing for me in Four."

Emilia lifts her head from her knees and gives me a look of pity. "That's so sad Finnick."

"I suppose. But it's my life. And if I win the games, I'll be out of the community homes. And if I don't, I'll be out of the community homes." I laugh, "Either way I get what I want."

Quietly, Emilia asks. "Is your life so terrible that you're using the games as an indirect means of suicide?"

I shrug but don't indicate anything more. Instead, I change the topic. "You could win too. It's not like you have no chance."

The tears begin again and Emilia stares blankly ahead. This lasts for several minutes and it's so unusual that I wonder what she's thinking about the entire time. Doubting she could be victor. Wondering what led up to this moment. Intoxicated by my presence. Conceited, but I'm always curious about what people see in me. Or maybe she's not thinking about anything. For all I know, Emilia could be blocking out everything bad and living in a land created within the depths of her mind.

Then she speaks. "Without the Careers, I'll die. If we team up with them, I'll have a greater chance of living longer."

"So we'll team up with them." I assure her.

"What makes you think they'll want to team up with us?"

I give her smile in an attempt to lighten her mood. "Because they can't have me without you."

"You would do that for me?" Emilia's surprised.

"Of course. We're partners in this, for now."

She shakes her head and smiles. "So is this the charm Finnick Odair uses on all the girls? Saying all the right things and making them feel safe."

Honestly I tell her. "No. All the other girls are easy. You weren't interested when I suggested we kill time. I'm speaking to you as someone who my stunts won't work on."

Emilia considers this and to my surprise asks, "Can I change my mind about being interested?"

"You may." I reply with my face turned to her.

She leans forward and kisses me, and I kiss her back. We both know this means nothing. It's what tributes do. We take comfort in the closeness of another person while we still can. While we can still feel the warmth of another's flesh. And warmth we feel. Emilia had turned up the temperature in her compartment, so all night into early morning the windows stay foggy from our few hours of opportunity.

Camera flashes filter through the layer of extra moisture, and I carefully get out of Emilia's bed. I go into the other compartment and instantly see hundreds of freaks with cameras snapping pictures whenever they can. There's a moment of shock when they see me, and no one moves. No flashes from the cameras. No uttered words. Then it becomes a frenzy and pictures are being snapped so continuously that the flashes merge into a constant glowering of bright light. I strike multiple poses seeing that they're loving it and this will be a good way for me to get sponsors.

Then Sam walks in and barks. "Odair! What do you think you're doing?"

"Getting the audiences favor." I reply and strike another pose with one arm casually behind my head.

Sam is looking up at the ceiling. "By being naked?"

"Naked? I'm not—" I'm look down and see that I am very naked. "Perhaps I am naked then. But I think the trays of food blocked enough of me."

"Let us hope so." he retorts and walks away in disgust. "We get off in five."

* * *

Within an hour of my arrival, the Capitol is in an uproar over my nearly exposed nude self. The food trays did block any further sneak peaks, and I grin when I see yet another photo of me projected on a big screen in the Capitol center. I'm the topic on everyone's tongue and my fame couldn't be lit alive fast enough. Claudius Templesmith and Caesar Flickerman are ranting about the mysterious boy from Four, and speculating the excitement I've stirred up in the Capitol.

This definitely gives me an advantage with sponsors, but puts me in disfavor with the other tributes especially the Careers. I'm going to have to downplay my popularity with the Careers and pretend I don't have a good funding already, and make them believe that the Capitol people are more interested in my looks rather than sponsoring me. They think I'm only good for my body. That's what I'll tell the Careers. Hopefully they'll be stupid enough to believe me. And be impressed with my spearing abilities since there won't be a trident in the Training Center.

At the opening ceremonies, a small bottom of seaweed covers the lower part of my body and stops mid thigh. Emilia's outfit is composed of bra and underwear like garments made of seaweed as well. It drives the Capitol freaks crazy, and I see the conceited grin on my face when it's Four's turn in the spotlight. This is our first in person glimpse of the other tributes and as usual, One and Two look incredibly strong compared to the other districts. Mags immediately sends Emilia and I back to our rooms once the ceremony concludes, and before the elevator door shuts, I see her talking with Haymitch.

The next morning, Emilia and I are in the elevator going down to the training stations. We have half an hour until the session starts, but our mentors insisted we show face early. Other tributes will be there early, and it proves you're dedicated to winning. Intimidates the other tributes. Something along those lines. Next to me, Emilia is shaking and looks terrified.

"You'll be fine." I tell her.

"They'll see that I'm weak right away."

I close the space between us and press my lips to Emilia's in order to help her relax. Noticeably her body slackens in my embrace. "Leave it to me. Don't spend too much time with the weapons. Mags said the survival stations are important so spend your time there. Act like you're above the weapons. I'll deal with the Careers."

She gives me one last kiss before we separate since the elevator has stopped. "Okay."

The doors open, and we're confronted with the tributes from One and Two. They're standing in front of the elevator with cocky stances and arms crossed, blocking our way. All of their eyes are daring us to 'just go ahead, make a move, see what we'll do.' The doors begin to close and I see their smirks widen. At the last moment when the doors are only inches apart, I stick my hands out and push against the force of the doors. The elevator doors begin to strain against the opposition, and with one final surge of strength, I shove the doors back into the sides where they become stuck halfway.

The Careers are attempting to keep their faces calm, but I can see my little display has them impressed. As if nothing happened, I walk through the gap and Emilia follows. It's a risky move, but we stand off to the side ignoring the Careers. They talk to one another in a tight circle, and then a stocky guy calls out. "Odair, you going to join us?"

So, they know my name. I'm sure everyone does. But this is good. "You have me at a disadvantage. I don't know your names."

"Perry." the guy who spoke first tells me.

A blonde with big brown eyes and prominent cheekbones gives me a hungry smile. "Cristine."

The other blonde with green eyes and luscious pink lips puts her hands on her hips. "Sandra."

The last Career, a guy with brown hair and hazel eyes, says. "Garrett."

"Finnick." I reply. "But you already knew that."

"Emilia." Emilia replies in a confident voice with a hint of snobbery. Good, she's pulling off the right attitude.

I look at Emilia then back to the Careers. "And to answer your question, we'll think about it."

Cristine points out in an irritated voice. "We didn't ask _her_, we asked you."

Although she may feel the strongest about this, and Sandra too because she looks annoyed, the guys' expressions let me know they weren't considering Emilia either. She's done nothing to impress them so far. But instead of showing the panic she must be feeling, Emilia simply sneers, "And what makes you think I want to team up with _you_?"

"Um," Cristine sarcastically says, "Finnick is the one with the invite. You don't have the option of choosing to team up with us."

"She will if you want me." I interject. "My allies are her allies. Or the only allies we have are each other."

Sandra scoffs. "Why would you want her? She won't live past the Cornucopia bloodbath."

Before anyone can react, Emilia smashes her palm upwards crushing Sandra's nose. The force shoves Sandra back, and Emilia grabs a handful of blonde hair. "You won't even make it to the Cornucopia you slut!"

The guys have stepped to the side with amused smiles, and Cristine giggles as Emilia's blood splatters her uniform. Sandra landed a punch, splitting Emilia's lip apart. In disbelief, Emilia spits out a large gob of blood which stains the blue floor. She has a few long gashes which run along her face from temple to jawline, and a swollen shut purple eye. But Sandra looks worse. Blood is smeared all over her mouth and chin, and dark purple bruises have spread from Sandra's broken nose to encircling both her eyes. She looks like a daunting figure with teeth bared into a snarl.

The pain Sandra must be experiencing has to be great, but she has no tears in her dark eyes and her voice is steady. "I am going to tear your insides out!"

Emilia darts to the right as Sandra lunges forward, and kicks her in the side. A few ribs crack and Sandra lets out a scream, but it does little to slow her. She twists around and bashes her forehead into Emilia's face—who staggers back with a gasp, blood gushing from a now broken nose. The floor around them is splattered red and neither of them are backing down. The only working elevator doors open, and it's the tributes from Three.

They both have red hair and are staring in astonishment at the sight of Emilia and Sandra. Emilia punches Sandra in the ribs as Sandra lands another punch hitting Emilia in the nose. They both scream and the sound of feet running echoes throughout this room.

"Stop it!" a tall lady yells. "Tributes must not fight until the games!" Two men grab Emilia and Sandra, preventing the girls from fighting each other. The tall lady looks them over and says, "Take them to the medic room and clean them up. They can't be in this condition." When the elevator door closes, the lady asks, "What happened here?"

She's referring to the elevator doors I broke, but Cristine speaks up. "Don't know. We've all had to take the one on the left."

Clearly the lady doesn't believe Cristine, but she doesn't say anything else. Two by two, tributes from the remaining districts begin to show up, and as we wait for the training session to officially begin, I stand next to Cristine. "I'm glad you didn't get into the fight."

"Oh yeah, why?" Cristine innocently asks with big brown eyes.

I lower my head and put my mouth near her earlobe. "I wouldn't be able to kiss you if you were injured that way."

She turns her head, and looks at me through her peripherals. "Who says we'll be kissing?"

I slowly say, "I do."

Cristine smiles and purses her lips together. She feels the sexual tension and I know she's hooked. I'll be able to mislead her and use this to my advantage. And I need to do the same to Sandra. After all the tributes, except Emilia and Sandra, are here and we've gone over the rules especially the one about not fighting before the games, I show off my spearing abilities. To my satisfaction, I hit near the bullseye on various practice dummies, impressing Cristine, Perry, and Garrett. Cristine is pretty good at throwing knives, Perry's strength is with swords, and surprisingly Garrett is not bad with a bow. They're good, but not as good as me with a trident. However, I remind myself, they're just as good as me when I'm using a spear.

Whenever Cristine and I hang back while we watch Perry or Garrett do their thing, I let my hand graze hers, brush against her hip, or play with her hair. At each touch, she freezes and I know she's battling the sexual desire inside. Personally, I can have fun with her, but I don't feel the way she does about our tension. It's not an overwhelming feeling of want, it's just fun. Although, too much fun does get boring. Nevertheless, it is something to do. And considering I may be dead within the next few weeks, it wouldn't be a bad idea to indulge in what might possibly be my last few moments of pleasure.

It's my turn, and I deftly twirl the spear between my hands the way I would a trident. The weight and feel is very different than that of my choice weapon, but I need to make do with what I'll get at the Cornucopia. I spin the spear a few more times with a few flashy tricks, and hurl it at the moving dummy. The spear head buries into the dummy's first ring around the bullseye. Not quite what I wanted, but it'll have to do. Besides, if I appear too good, I'll be seen as a threat. Unfortunately, I'm not having to downplay my skill because with a spear I am simply adequate.

"Nice throw." a voice says from behind.

I turn around with a haughty smile, and tell Sandra. "It was alright."

Her nose has been fixed back into place and the dark circles around her eyes are only noticeable close up. Which is exactly where I am. I'm standing inches away and softly breathe, "They did a good job of returning your beauty to its regular state."

"They had to." Sandra whispers. "Couldn't have you seeing me look like that."

"Perfect." I respond. "I look forward to seeing you later."

"And when is this happening?"

Cristine calls out, "Finnick, let's go to the rope climbing station."

"After dinner. Your floor." I look back at Cristine and smile, then frown when I'm facing Sandra. "I would love to deny her request, but we are teaming up with her."

Annoyed with Cristine, but pleased with me, Sandra puts a hand to my chest. "Go, I'll see you later."

As I walk over to Cristine, I see that Emilia's face looks much better too. There's barely any evidence of a bruised eye or broken nose, and her busted lip has a thin white line for a scar. Our eyes meet, and she knows I'm seeing all the girls in our Career pact. However, there's no jealousy or bitterness. Emilia understands the One and Two girls are nothing more than a game within our game, and if I had to choose among them, I'd choose her without a doubt.

For three days we train. In which time, I also spend in the company of Cristine, Sandra, and Emilia. Cristine is the gullible and smitten type. Eager to hear caressing words, prefers slow rhythmic motions, and too readily believes every lie I feed her. Sandra is the type I enjoy. Aggressive, feisty, knows what to do and knows what she likes. Both agree and believe me when I tell them, we can't be openly affectionate because the other tributes will use that against us and I would hate for us to be separated.

Emilia is the one I respect and prefer. With the others, I pretend to fall asleep after holding them in my arms for a few minutes which leads them to fall asleep, and then I quietly unwrap myself and leave. When I'm with Emilia, I consider what she likes and I stay until we both wake up or have somewhere else to be. We would have never met if it weren't for the games, I wouldn't have gone for her if we'd met in Four, but we ended up together. Now I'm in her bed for the countless time.

My fingers run along Emilia's back, and I kiss her tan shoulder. In response, she turns her head and golden hair spills over my fingers. "Are you nervous?"

The gamemaker's assessment is in a few hours and the scores will be displayed tonight. It's the moment when the Capitol decides a tributes worth; usually determining their survival rate. I should be fine, but I am worried about Emilia. I push her hair to the side and kiss the curve of her shoulder again. "No. Are you?"

She puts her forehead to mine. "Yes." Her eyes close and I can feel her fear. "I have very few weapon skills. I don't know what I'll be doing."

"Don't over think it. You'll psyche yourself out and it'll affect your score." I lift a hand and stroke her cheek with my thumb. "Even if you don't get the score you need, I'll protect you in there."

"Why are you helping me Finnick?" Emilia asks with her eyes still closed.

I firmly tell her, "Because one of us has to win. If it's not going to be me, it has to be you."

A tear falls from her eye. "What if it comes down to the both of us?"

"It won't." I say. "We'll split up long before then. That way one of us is bound to be killed by another tribute. And whoever is still alive has to win."

She nods. "Okay."

I press my lips to hers, and we entwine, losing ourselves in the sheets for a second time today. Much later, there's a knock on the door and a muffled voice tells us, "You have thirty minutes. Head down in twenty five. You may not be going until an hour from now, but the gamemakers want all the tributes present at once."

"Thanks Mags." I call out, and Emilia whacks me. "What, it's not like it's a secret I'm with you."

"I know." she laughs embarrassed. "But I'm not as open with my sexuality like you."

I kiss her forehead and put my uniform on. We dress and lie back down on her bed. As if she were mine, I push the hair from her face and tuck it behind an ear. "You're beautiful, you know?"

"I'm plain Finnick. And I don't say that in an attempt to receive more compliments." Emilia says.

"I think you're beautiful." I tell her. "And I mean that."

It's true though, that she is physically plain. She has flat golden hair, brown eyes, regular facial features. Nothing outstanding or impressive. But I've gotten to know her, and it's changed how I see her. Emilia and I aren't so foolish as to think we sincerely like each other the way our actions speak. But our situation has made us become close friends with an intimate relationship. Strictly that.

Emilia puts a hand to my chest and asks, "What do you think would have happened if we met under different circumstances?"

I think about it. "We probably would have passed each other by."

"Probably." Emilia agrees. "I would have seen you, but you wouldn't have seen me."

"Probably." I agree. Despite living at the community homes, I am rather well known throughout Four. "I would like to think that if we were at Four, I would have gotten to know you eventually. It would have been great to have a friend like you there."

Emilia sadly smiles. "You would have met Todd. I think you would have really liked him."

"Your boyfriend?"

"Yes." she replies. "I didn't have the heart to tell him we were over during our goodbyes at the Justice Building. He wouldn't have given up on me, so I had to pretend that I moved on."

I laugh in amusement because it clicks. "You know, this is the first time I'm the one who's been used for sex."

Sheepishly Emilia smiles. "It worked for both of us. I figured it wouldn't bother you. I didn't expect us to become friends in the process though. A turn of events for the good."

"Definitely."

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the much talked about Finnick Odair from District Four!" Caesar Flickerman roars. Confidently I walk out on stage and wave at the thousands of people sitting before us. The lights are bright and it takes my eyes a while to adjust, but I can see the anticipation on the crowd's face. Caesar jokes, "Glad to see you finally have some clothes on you Mr. Odair."

The audience laughs and I flash a mischievous smile. "Well I was told by my stylist that wearing clothes to the interview is mandatory so I didn't exactly have a choice."

Several hoots ring through the crowd and expressively Caesar turns to the crowd. "Not shy at all is he?"

"Nothing to be shy about." I seductively say.

This drives the women crazy and I hear several 'I love yous.' We both laugh and Caesar begins with his first question for me. "So Mr. Odair, we all saw your reaping. Why would you want to volunteer at fourteen years old?"

Everyone knows my age, but no one treats me accordingly. I cross my legs and lean forward with my hands clasped. "It seemed like the right time. I'm ready now, and I didn't see the point in waiting."

"Truly a wonderful display of confidence." Caesar observes and the audience agrees. "Does it worry you that no one your age has ever been crowned victor before?"

"Nope." I reply, and look into the crowd, pretending to direct my attention to every interested individual. "There's a first for everything. And when it comes to me, I'm always a first. If you get my meaning."

Caesar gives a hearty laugh and there are multiple wails of desire. "Well I know for a fact many of us will be rooting for you." Hundreds of people scream in agreement. "With a score of nine, I think it's safe to say you have a good chance."

"With a score of nine, I surely hope so." I laugh. "I can't disappoint all my fans." Cheers of agreement respond. I won't have a trident, so the only advantage I'll have are the sponsors. And this interview is critical for me gaining even more. "I'll think of everyone one of your beautiful faces to help me get through the games as well."

A few people burst into tears. And Caesar looks grave,"We wish you the best Finnick Odair. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the heartthrob of District Four, Finnick!"

The entire place erupts in screams and I give a bow with one of my smiles. They ate it up like fools. But fools or not they're the ones who get to live without fear of reapings or extreme starvation. We can think they're fools all we want but the fact is they live here in luxury while we suffer in the districts. It's because of this fact that tomorrow I'll be facing the 65th Hunger Games. Live or die. I begin the path towards one of the two by this time tomorrow. Ladies and gentlemen, let the 65th Hunger Games begin.

* * *

i know it's not what many of you probably expected and i'm sorry for that, but i felt this was necessary to write instead of just beginning with the games. hope you enjoyed it, and stick around for the 65th hunger games. after that, i promise, i'll return to annie and finnick =]


	12. Chapter 12: 65th HG part 1—Finnick POV

**alright, so i know i said i would write finnick's game in one chapter. and then the last chapter was pre-game, and now his game will come in parts. BUT i did write a small annie & finnick section =] i hope you guys enjoy this and for me it was interesting to see how the games came along as i wrote it. thank you to all my readers! it always makes me so happy to see that people are reading this and hopefully enjoying it. (btw, if you read it before i manage to edit the errors, sorry, ik if u did read it before i edit, sometimes the mistakes are so dumb)**

**random psych fact: there's a correlation (relationship; NOT cause and effect) between stress and actual biological damages to a person's brain.**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: The 65th Hunger Games part 1**—**Finnick's POV**

All the platforms are on these stone strips laid out like a maze surrounded by random sections of sand. We've all been placed in a half-circle; each platform an equal distance away from the Cornucopia which is on the edge of the land before us. Tall palm trees rise above the metal container, and I can hear the chirping of various birds. Behind me, there is nothing but sand. As far as the eye can see. It surrounds the land in front, also as far as the eye can see. It must mean there is something wrong with the sand.

To my right, Sandra is next to me, Garrett five tributes away, and Perry eleven. To my left, Cristine is two tributes away, and Emilia seven. I'm going to need the Careers for now if I plan to keep Emilia alive. Once the gong sounds, I'll need to tell Sandra and Cristine my theory about the sand, and have them tell the other Careers in time. I need to get to the Cornucopia. The one thought on everyone's mind.

Four. Three. Two. One. _Dong._

I leap over the sand onto the next section of stone as several people scream. While I leap again, I take a look around and am glad to see the Careers have come to the same conclusion and are jumping from stone section to stone section. We're all running about the same speed, and will reach the Cornucopia around the same time—before most of the other tributes. The ones who were injured cry out in pain as they now see they must run on the stones, and I'm less than thirty feet away.

My head turns to my left and my heart drops when I see Emilia limping across the second stone section, and barely make it to the third stone. The other Careers are four stones away, and I decide to double back for Emilia. As I leap across to the stones on the side, I see that a few of the tributes have figured out the routes to take where the stones attach to one another that way they don't have to leap more than five feet to the next stone.

Screams of triumph and agony fill the air and I know the initial bloodbath has begun. Emilia doesn't see me heading towards her, and before I can yell for her to stop, she leaps to the fourth stone. Her right foot sticks it, but her left foot slips and I see her arms flail to maintain balance. I'm only two stones away and I can't understand why Emilia is struggling with her balance. When I'm one stone away, I see that her right foot is an angry red and blistered with burnt skin peeling off. She has her left shoe on, but the right shoe is missing various sections.

I leap onto her stone and catch Emilia's left hand, yanking her towards me just as she begins to fall back into the sand. With a cry of relief, she wraps her arms around my neck as I lift her onto my back. The Careers are fighting several tributes, and the others have now reached the land and are taking off into the vegetation, or are still running on the stone maze. None of the Careers seem to notice neither Emilia or I aren't at the Cornucopia, and that may be for the best because it would make them doubt my worth.

After six stone jumps, I'm sweating profusely and feel the strength draining from my body. Emilia is slender, but she is well over a hundred pounds. And I have eleven stones to go. Her grip begins to loosen, and I warn her as I take another jump. "If you let go, I'll come back for you. Which will not only slow me down, but if you fall into the sand, I too will acquire severe burns."

I've read her mind because after a heavy sigh, Emilia tightens her grip. With almost every jump, I watch a tribute fall. Sandra gets the upper hand in her fight, swings her sword, and a diagonal half of a boy's head flies into the sand where it begins to burn and char. The smell of singed hair and flesh permeates the air, and I can hear the flesh sizzling as it overcooks in the sand. What the screens won't reveal is the smell. The crystal clear details of reality. Bits of his brain have landed on the stone and squish beneath my feet as I have no choice but to jump onto the stone next to the "sand cooking pit."

Perry drives his sword into the stomach of the boy from Twelve, and pushes the dying body to the floor. Laughing, he begins rifling through the containers of weapons. This happens in the background of Cristine who has slammed her arm into the face of a young girl. I'm nearly there and I can see that the girl's nose has been completely smashed and a few teeth are lying on the ground. In horror I watch as Cristine tortures the girl by slowly crushing her throat and I can hear the agonizing gradual crunch of cartilage breaking. I finally reach land, and the banging sound I've been hearing is from Garrett throwing a red hair boy's head against the side of the Cornucopia. His head splits open and blood smears the metal, but Garrett keeps throwing the boy against the side as if to mark this as his territory.

Just outside of the Cornucopia's mouth, Perry has returned to the boy with grey eyes and begins thrusting his sword into the boy over and over. Emilia and I are the only Careers without any weapons, and while the Careers are too busy with their own kills, a few tributes note we're technically helpless. A boy from Eleven has a spear in his hand, and he charges. In an undignified manner, I throw Emilia off my back into the mouth of the Cornucopia, and sidestep the boy's charge. He's rushes past me, and it's so instinctive when I reach out and grab the boy's head, giving it a sharp twist, breaking his neck. It was like snatching a fish from out of the water, and snapping its neck so it wouldn't die slowly.

I'm not allowed any time to comprehend the fact I've just felt a human's life come to an end because of my hands. I'm barely aware that I just felt a dead boy's bones break beneath his own flesh. A girl is running at me with an axe, and she darts from side to side to avoid staying in a straight line. She hurls the axe at me which I barely manage to block with the spear I've kicked up from the ground after the boy dropped it. The impact of the axe hitting the spear head sends powerful jarring vibrations throughout my arms. I steady the spear and the girl retrieves another axe from within the folds of her clothes.

The pulling back of her arm tells me she's about to give another throw, and this time her accuracy will be lethal. It's not a trident, but I hurl the spear along the same rules, and before the girl has time to release, my spear has buried itself into her heart. For a second she clutches at the spear impaled in her chest, and sinks to her knees with the dropped axe lying next to her. She opens her mouth in silent shock and her whole body tilts to the right falling over. Blood soaks the ground and lifeless eyes accuse me of being a murderer.

Two bodies lie around me as evidence of the killer I have become. It seemed so improbable that I could ever be so deeply affected by death, but the rarity and unrealism of such events occurring skew one's perception. I have been shaken to my very core and it can never be undone. All along, I never knew what I was getting myself into, and Emilia knew this.

Emilia. I force myself to look her way, and I see her standing up, leaning against a crate of food. Her blue eyes are wide, and focused. Does she hate me? I walk over to her, and try to say. "They-they were coming and-" my voice is extremely unsteady and it sounds as if I'm in shock.

Emilia puts her hands to my face, and urgently pulls me together. "Listen to me, it's us or them. We all know this. No one would have expected you to react differently. Not them, not whoever else, not I. Do you hear me?"

Not I. She's letting me know that she thinks what I did was the normal course of action. She doesn't think I'm a bad person, and I can't let myself feel bad about surviving. I close my eyes and swallow. "I hear you."

Quickly Emilia releases her hands, and looks through the crate. "How long do you think the fruits will last?"

All the Careers appear from the sides of the Cornucopia and begin looking through the boxes too. Sandra and Cristine are eyeing me suspiciously, but I casually respond to Emilia. "Not long. They'll go bad within a few days. Look through the rest of this and see what else we have. I'm going to look through the weapons."

They're pleased smiles indicate they've accepted nothing is going on between Emilia and I, and they're so caught up in looking at me that they both fail to realize the other's smile. Girls like them can be so unbelievably stupid when they're incredibly intelligent with all other aspects in their lives. Sandra turns to her right and looks through a box of supplies consisting of blankets, lights, shields, things like that, and Cristine turns left to look at a box of wires. The wire is tangled and it looks as if someone else got to this box before us.

"What else do you think was in here?" Cristine asks.

I hold the thin flexible silver wire between my fingers and tug on it. Despite how slack it is without tension, I can tell it's extremely hard to cut through. We have thin lines similar to this wire back in Four. I drop the wire and let it fall back into the box. "Probably more wire. Nothing important. It's not going to do much good in helping a tribute win. Unless you plan to go fishing."

Garrett kicks the dead body of the boy whose neck I snapped. "Hey, who killed the weakling? And this girl?" he sees the axe on the ground. "Seven." he sneers. "I don't know why the other districts bother. They never have a chance unless we want them in the Career pact."

He looks around waiting for someone to claim the bodies and I speak up. "Some guy did. I got him in the side but he took off."

"Less work for us." Perry comments and holds up a mace. "This will puncture flesh like it's nothing but paper."

I go over to Perry and dig through the box of weapons. There are two scythes and I take them both, then give it to Emilia. "Here. I know you're good with these." she doesn't say anything, but her eyes are full of questions because I in fact do not know what weapon she is good with. The entire training she managed to get away with never having touched the weapon stations. But she understands when I secretly slip her two daggers after giving her the scythes. Emilia tucks these into her clothes, and puts the scythes on the outside between her clothes and belt.

_Boom_. The first cannon sounds and everyone stops to listen. _Boom._ Two. _Boom._ Three. _Boom._ Four. _Boom._ Five. _Boom._ Six. _Silence._ Six. Six tributes dead. Eighteen of us left. Seventeen will die. One will win. Six are dead for now. Two of them because of me. If I hadn't killed them. Four would be dead. Twenty of us left. Nineteen to die. One winner. But six are dead. Not four. Six.

"We'll set up camp here." Perry announces disrupting my count. He looks around. "Agreed?"

None of us have a problem with this and we all say, "Agreed."

I meet Emilia's eyes and she must see my grief because very subtly she pushes her fingertips to mine before looking through another box of food. Her touch has warmed me, and I want company. I need someone to temporarily be mine. Use then discard when I'm finished. Every part of me hates myself and I need to share that with someone else. I would never disrespect Emilia that way. But Sandra? Yes. I'll be able to assert my aggression.

I wait for her to meet my eyes and I see the flash of passion. Cristine is looking through another box, and I nod my head to the right. "I'm going to scout out the area. Anyone want to come?"

"I will." Sandra immediately perks up as Cristine spins around.

Sandra takes off and I give Cristine an apologetic look, and I know she's remembering what I told her. "Sandra's been flirting with me so if you see it, don't think for a second that I am into it. But she's very fierce and dangerous, and if she saw us together I fear for your life. I'm sure you could defend yourself, but I don't want you to take that risk okay? Promise me you'll just ignore it when Sandra flirts with me. I would never do anything with her except humor her and flirt back."

Cristine believes because I told her I would flirt with Sandra that I was admitting to doing something I didn't want to especially since I wasn't trying to hide it. She has been and will be played before her very eyes and not realize this. And Sandra is so confident that she has not considered the other girls to be competition. It's always been so easy to toy with their hearts.

As I leave, Cristine gives me a smile sincerely thinking I'm just humoring Sandra's flirtatious habits when I'm the one who is actually initiating sexual activity. I smile at her and then look forward to follow Sandra. Emilia looks at me with no emotions because she knows Cristine is observing her response. Indifferently she tells me, "Look for vegetables or meat if you can. There's a few preserved cans of that, but nothing fresh." she's also just covered me by enforcing the idea that Sandra and I really are going out on a scout. Emilia knows exactly what I am doing.

I nod a thanks and reply, "Will do."

* * *

With one last push, I shove Sandra's back up against a tree, and she tightly grips my shoulders. It's been a time of muffled moans and screams, and that time has come to an end. I lower her, and kiss her one more time before I begin pulling up my pants. She rearranges her clothes and hair, erasing any evidence of our "scout out".

Sandra begins walking back towards the Cornucopia, but I tell her. "I'm going to take a look around since we're supposed to be doing that. Can you send Emilia here? She needs to help me look for food."

"I can help you." Sandra stiffly says.

It's too easy. All I do is kiss Sandra warmly and she melts. "I would love that. But the others will be getting suspicious, don't you think? Besides, everyone is expecting me to look for meat and Emilia and I have the most experience with hunting."

Sandra drags a finger across my cheek. "Of course. I'll get her." She kisses me and whispers, "I don't have to worry about you being unnecessarily loyal to your district partner, do I? After what she did to me, I want to be the one who tears her insides out."

I laugh as if what she said is ridiculous. "Once she's expended her usefulness, she's all yours."

"Perfect." Sandra smiles with straight white teeth. "Just perfect."

I wait six minutes after Sandra has left, and quietly whisper, "Burn medicine. Please." In less than a minute a parachute descends from above the treetops and lands on the ground next to me. I quickly open it, take out the note and medicine, dig a hole, and then bury the parachute. The other Careers can't know I get help so easily. They would know it means that towards the end, I'll be the one getting supplies and have a better survival rate. The sponsors are keeping me alive. Right, the sponsors. "Thank you. All of you are in my thoughts."

A bit too possessively, I turn the medicine over in my hands and put it in my pocket. It's just that the medicine is so precious to Emilia's survival and I can't have anything happen to it. Now that it's secured, I read over the note. _Use it all. Be sure to remove foreign objects before application._

Foreign objects? It's a burn. It's not like Emilia has a knife lodged in her foot. I tear up the note and wait.

About thirty minutes pass and I begin to worry because there's no sign of Emilia. Several minutes later though, I hear twigs being trudged underfoot. It's probably her, but I need to be sure. I take my knife out and cautiously approach. Five yards away, I see Emilia gritting her teeth and limping in my direction. Relief breaks out on her sweaty face, and she slumps to the ground next to a tree.

I jog to her and put my hands on her shoulder. "Hey, how are you doing?"

"I would be better if I didn't have to drag myself here."

She's shaking, and I feel terrible I couldn't help her before. "I know. But the Careers can't know about our supply."

"Our?" Emilia questions.

"Yes. Ours. I'm not going to let you die." I insist.

I help her slide back and lean against the tree, and then I proceed to examine her right foot. Thankfully Emilia has wrapped it in a white cloth for protection, but it only hides the damage beneath. Carefully I unwrap her foot and on the last layer, she bites her lip and stifles cries of pain as the cloth sticks to her skin and pulls the loose flesh away. We both see just how bad things are.

The remaining shoe has melted to Emilia's flesh, and the exposed wounds have become open sores crusted with pus. A thin film of clear liquid coats the discolored red and white flesh which is swelling. I've never seen an injury like this and I am sickened to my stomach and deeply terrified. It's bad. Really bad. The pain must be searing, but I don't think Emilia realized how bad it looked. She begins to silently cry, no longer able to look at her foot.

"Emilia." I softly say. "I'm going to have to remove the rest of you shoe." The foreign object, that's what they meant. "And then I can put the medicine on."

Emilia continues crying with her eyes closed, head pressed against the tree, and she gives me a small nod. Her lips are trembling, and I know she's doing all she can to not panic. She has to be in shock. But she's holding it together. And I need to do the same for her because I want to panic as well.

A flap of the shoe material is sticking out, attached to the rest, and I know that is my starting point. However, after I loosen some of the material, I need to make a cut in it from top to bottom in order to break the circular form around her ankle. Just the pressure of touching the flap causes Emilia to tense up and rapidly increases her breathing beyond the norm of what is safe. The remaining shoe has infused with her skin, and there's no good way to do this. There's no way around it. I'm going to have to tear off more of her skin.

If I rip it off all at once, the shock will be too great. Little by little is cruel. But the way the shoe burned off is in such a weird and uneven pattern I will need to make sure I get it off in one piece. If I accidently leave other pieces of the shoe, I may not have another flap to work with and then I'll have to dig it up with my knife. Slow appears to be the best approach.

"Just do what you have to." Emilia tells me between strained teeth. "I'm one of the lucky ones who got burnt. I realized what was happening and I jumped out in time so only my shoe was burned which burned my skin. I saw other tributes who stayed in too long and had hundreds of tiny grains burn away their flesh and stick to the raw wounds. I was lucky."

Emilia talking with me has calmed me down, and even she seems calmer. I gently grab the flap again and Emilia pushes her head against the tree, fighting the screams and forcing herself to cry silently. It may do her no good, but I talk about the only thing I know well, aside from girls. "At the community homes, I would help make nets and fishing lines because I can tie knots really well. One of the knots I tied involves two ropes."

"Two?" Emilia asks, and this seems to be helping her. Engaging her mind in other things besides her foot and the pain. "I've never heard of that."

While I speak, I pull away the material little by little and Emilia bites her lip. "It's not common. Most people attempt it once but the knot comes undone when there's a big haul." I pull more. "The two ropes need to be differentiated. We call them rope one and two."

"That's boring." she grimaces. "You need a better name. Like, rope star and fish. That way when they come together, it's starfish."

I gently push the tip of my knife to the cloth, and begin to cut through. "Alright. Rope star and fish." I cut a few more strands out of the thousands left. "You need to take the ends of rope star and fish and overlap them. You take rope fish's head and curl it so its far part lies over rope star. You do the same thing with rope star but have its head face down. Star is pointing down, fish is pointing up. The two ropes centers need to be parallel." I can see the motions play in slow motion.

I've cut through the material and begin to peel away the skin again. "Star's tip should be behind both ropes facing down. The end should be facing up. When you pull this end, it'll tighten the loop you created from the previous step. The loop should be around both rope star and fish."

I briefly look up to see something other than Emilia's severely burned foot and see her hands tying an invisible knot. She doesn't open her eyes. "Keep going. I think I got it."

Nearly an hour later, I've talked about eight different knots and answered Emilia's numerous questions. Finally, with one last pull, the last bit of material detaches from her foot. I throw it to the side and hastily pull out the container of medicine. I scoop out big globs and generously apply it to the burns. With each smear, Emilia lets out greater sounds of relief and when the last patch of burned flesh is covered, she has completely relaxed all her muscles. The container is empty; I bury that also.

I wrap her foot in the white cloth again, and Emilia attempts to get to her feet. "We should head back. The Careers will be getting restless." But she can't get all the way up. "Help me."

Gently, I ease her shoulders back down and take a seat next to her. "Rest for a bit. I'll tell them we ran into a tribute who had burn medicine, but before you could kill him two other tributes helped him get away. Apparently another alliance has formed."

"You're a compulsive liar." Emilia comments with a smile.

"Only when necessary." I laugh.

* * *

No cannons sound on the second day, and the Careers make no hint that we should move on from the Cornucopia and search for other tributes. This may be partially my fault. During random intervals throughout the day, I make excuses and get intensive pleasure from Sandra and Cristine. The dead tributes faces haunt me, and I need something to distract my mind. So I use them. Over and over and none of them have any clue. Except for Emilia. Who watches me leave each time with a knowing smirk on her face.

In the late afternoon, I ask Cristine to send Emilia my way since we'll try to go hunting. By now, all the Careers accept that Emilia and I are the best candidates for hunting, and every time we disappear into the vegetation, we go unquestioned. This morning I redressed her burns which have dramatically healed and only a light pink layer of skin indicates of the once severe damage. It's late afternoon, and I should redress Emilia's burn one more time.

Several minutes later, I see her come around a bend of palm trees. She has a big smile on her face, and barely limps now. "Hey."

"Hey there." I reply. Emilia takes a seat as I grab a parachute out of the air. I look up to the sky. "Thank you." Now that I've thanked the sponsors, I squat down and unwrap the gauze from Emilia's foot. "This should be the last time. I think it'll be healed by tomorrow."

"Thank you." Emilia sighs in pleasure as I smear medicine on her burns.

Normally I would reject a thanks because after what I've done, I don't deserve to be thanked ever again. But Emilia was there when I killed the tributes, and she actually knows the horror of my actions. Other people can say it's not a big deal, but they weren't there. She was. And she still chooses to be on my side. She knows all the facts. They don't. So if she chooses to forgive me after knowing what she does, I'll accept it because being too lonely in this arena will end me.

"Always." I tell her as I cover the last section of her burned foot.

I wrap Emilia's foot again in a new gauze, and help her up. She kisses me in return, and for the first time today, I allow myself to forget everything else. The warmth of skin comforts me. The feel of her fingers grazing my waist drives me into desperation of wanting more. I feel myself losing control. With all the other girls, I'm dominant. With Emilia, I cave easily to her touch. We would never be anything, but it's the closest thing I've experienced to that feeling.

Panem may be watching, the Capitol may be watching, Todd may be watching, but when you're in the arena—facing life and death, watching human beings get slaughtered, participating in the murders yourself—the world outside of here, here, this ghastly forsaken place, the world outside does not exist. It ceases to exist. Because how could another world exist when such terrible acts are being carried out without punishment for the vain waste of human life? So it doesn't exist. Not while we're in here. And only one will survive, so in the end, that world cannot exist for us. At least, that's how I see it.

By the third day, the Careers are restless because no one died yesterday, and they're all itching with bloodlust. I've been exploring the surrounding vegetation by myself for various reasons. I can't stay in one place for too long which is exactly what the Careers have done by setting up camp at the Cornucopia. Things with the Careers will eventually fall apart and I need an escape plan for Emilia and I. And, I also just need time by myself. I'm not sure how to deal with knowing the person I've become, but it's my burden alone and no one else's. Emilia does not deserve to be subjected to this weight. I will not allow her to help me carry it.

A horrified shriek pierces the air and I take off running in the direction of the Cornucopia. Panic threatens to overwhelm and consume me with each step. Have the Careers decided to turn on Emilia while I was away? Sandra and Cristine promised they would hold off on attacking her, but have I been deceived with their promises as I have been deceiving them? Sobbing mixed in with muffled shrieks grow louder, and I swing around the side of the Cornucopia, dreading the scene I see in my head.

Sandra is holding a ponytail of golden hair between her right hand, but it's not Emilia. Emilia is standing next to the crate of weapons, her own hands gripping the edges tightly. She's terrified. The other Careers are too focused on this newfound amusement to notice Emilia. Sandra sees me and laughs, "Finnick. You came just in time."

"What's going on?" I ask, stepping into the Cornucopia's mouth.

"Found this little thing creeping along the edge of the jungle." Sandra yanks the girl's head up, and presses her face in front of the girl's. "Thought we had left, did you? Did you think you could steal some supplies." Without warning, Sandra pounds her fist into the girl's face, and roughly throws her onto the ground. She barks to us, "Watch her."

Cristine sort of challenges. "What are you going to do?"

Sandra holds her sword up to Cristine. "I'm going to kill her, if you want to join her."

The threat is clear, and Cristine glances at me. I'm sure she's remembering what I made her "promise" to me. "No thanks. I'd rather watch."

"That's what I thought." Sandra retorts.

She walks over to the sand, and with her sword, begins pushing thousands of grains to the side, away from the point in front of her; digging a hole. A few minutes later, there's a small hole and Sandra comes back to the Cornucopia, dragging the girl by her hair. The girl shrieks and grabs at the ground, infuriating Sandra who knocks the girl in the face again. Blood spots the stone section in front of the sand, and Sandra puts a knee on the girl's back, shoving her battered face near the sand.

"No!" the girl screams as the heat radiating from the pit begins to burn her face. "Just kill me."

Sweetly, Sandra responds. "Oh I will, just not yet."

From the side, I can see the girl's face blister and redden, becoming charred. It was one thing to see part of the dead boy's head burn, to see Emilia's right foot, but this, this is cruel torture. The flesh doesn't melt off, it cracks and burns to a crisp. Beginning with superficial wounds, working its way down, layer by layer, until it destroys the core. As one layer fails, the burns reach the next layer. It's like skinning a person alive while using another weapon instead of a blade.

How can I not intervene? What kind of person does it make me that I am standing here watching? Was I so foolish to think that living at the community homes for two more years would be worse than this? Why did I ever think I could detach myself from these murders? Who have I became?

But I stand here. Despite the moral conflict. Despite the innocent life I can save. Despite everything in me which screams about how wrong all of this is. I stand here.

Sandra shoves the girl's face into the sand, and the sound of flesh _sizzling_ hisses from the hole along with the sound of stifled screams. That putrid stench of flesh and hair burning wafts through the air, and Sandra begins pushing the sand back into the hole with her sword. Her knee is pressed firmly to the girl's back, and the girl's legs are thrashing around, arms flailing desperately trying to grab Sandra. The girl's last movements are of her sticking her hands into the sand, burning away the flesh, and then throwing the sand up, back at Sandra.

Loud shrieks of agony penetrate our eardrums as Sandra flings herself backwards, clawing at her face amidst the explosion of scorching sand. Instantly her face and arms erupt in red blisters, and the sand sticks to her skin, pressing in deeper each time she attempts to brush it off. In a hysteria none of us have seen before, Sandra turns to us and screams. "Get this off me! Get it off! Don't just stand there!"

Surprisingly, Emilia is the first to respond. I don't respond because I can't bring myself to move. Cristine doesn't like Sandra. Perry is weighing the pros and cons of helping her. And Garrett has a dumbfounded expression of helplessness.

Emilia runs to Sandra who is on her knees with her eyes closed, trembling hands held in front of her face, and still screaming in excruciation. There's a blanket in Emilia's hand, and very lightly she drags and brushes it against Sandra's upper body. The physical contact of the blanket to Sandra's searing skin must be unbearable because Sandra's hand shoots out and clutches Emilia's throat.

"Are you trying to kill me while I'm wounded!" Sandra shrieks. "I am going to kill you!"

Vainly, Emilia pulls at Sandra's arms, but Sandra is too strong. The imminent danger which Emilia is in snaps me into attention, and I sprint towards them. "Let her go Sandra. She's trying to help. The blanket will remove most of the sand. If you try to brush it off with your hands it'll stick."

Upon hearing my voice, Sandra releases her grip and stops screaming. Emilia falls back a little, hand pressed to her chest just below her throat, and I can see the fear in her eyes. In seconds she recovers, and returns to helping Sandra. At this point, the other Careers have lost interest, and are talking amongst themselves in the Cornucopia. _Boom_. Emilia momentarily freezes and looks at the dead girl lying on the stone with her head beneath the white-hot sand. A few minutes later, a craft appears in the air and lifts the dead girl up.

The girl's head is burned black, and halfway up it falls off. Unable to control herself, Emilia screams as it falls back into the pit and burns against the sand. She's dropped the blanket and taken off into the jungle behind Cornucopia. I chase after her and yell to the other Careers, "Help Sandra. I need to get Emilia."

Not far ahead of me are Emilia's distraught screams and cries. I need to catch up with her because other tributes may be lurking around like the girl Sandra killed. Emilia has stopped running, and is sobbing crouched over with her hands on her knees. I put my hand on her back. "Emilia."

She straightens out and buries her face in my chest. "It was awful Finnick. It was _so_ awful." Emilia sobs. Tears wet my shirt, and Emilia is shaking in my arms. "Her face was burnt off! It was _gone_!" Emilia wails in terror. Deep breaths morph into sobs and her breathing is uneven. "I can't-I can't."

I hold Emilia tightly within my arms and press my lips to her head, softly whispering. "Okay, okay. I can for you. I can." I gently kiss her crown. "You are not going to do this alone. I'm here for you. I got you." her breathing has slowed, and I stroke her hair. "Whatever you need me to do, I will. Whatever you need me to become, I will. I will always be here for you, I promise."

A small hand presses against my pec, and I hear Emilia numbly say. "Don't make promises you can't keep Finnick. One of us is going to die. If not both of us."

"No." I firmly say. "One of us has to win. And I will do whatever it takes to keep you alive."

"You can't." she sadly says. "You need to survive too."

I kiss her head again. "You have more than I do. It would be a greater waste if I survived."

She knows what I mean. She has more to return to in Four. And for that reason, her dying and me surviving would be wasteful. But Emilia shakes her head. "You don't get to give up. I want you to fight as hard as you can until the very end, no matter who the remaining tributes are. Promise me."

"I can't."

"I need you to do this, and you said you would do whatever I needed you to. Promise me." Emilia sternly demands. "Promise me Finnick."

My eyes close, and I barely nod my head. "I promise." I breathe in heavily and hold her closely. "I promise."

Satisfied, Emilia reaches up and cups my chin in her palm. I lean down to kiss her, and we draw much comfort from the feel of the other's lips. Eventually, Emilia's lips are on my bare chest and I lazily drag my fingers across her neck. She rests her chin on my chest, and looks into my eyes. I feel a different sort of nakedness, but it's alright. Because she knows me best, even if we've only known each other for this short time. Emilia is my only friend in all of Panem. And that counts for a lot.

* * *

On the couch next to me, Annie puts a few fingers to her lips. The scene of Emilia now stroking my cheek fills the screen, and you can see a light in my green eyes. I remember how Emilia and I stayed that way for hours despite the situation's high risk factor considering Cristine or Sandra could have went looking for us. Thankfully, Sandra's wounds were so extensive that they didn't notice our absence.

This awareness of my surroundings during my game's screening may be temporary, and I should at least touch bases with reality just to assure myself this is the now and that was the then. My throat is parched, and I swallow. "How long have we been here?"

Surprised, Annie flinches and looks at me. Those big brown eyes are wide and observing. She holds out a glass of water. "Several hours. The sun is up."

I look out the window and see light flooding the street. "Don't you have work?"

"Yurol came by. She said she could cover me. Normally I waitress, but she can do it too."

"Annie, you don't need to miss work because of me." I gently say stroking her hand with my thumb.

But Annie has her mind set, and I'm glad she does. "No. I'm staying right here. The only time I am going to leave you during this is to use the bathroom, eat, drink, shower, or if I fall asleep." she leans forward and squeezes my hand. "You don't get to go through this alone Finnick."

I swore to myself then that I'd never accept forgiveness or another person's kindness, but Annie is making me go against my word. With her, I can't seem to punish myself. All of me is defenseless against her conviction, and as selfish as this feels, I am so grateful. Because I've always wanted to get better, but I never deserved it. Annie though, she makes me feel worthy of: care, self-respect, kindness, everything good I could never achieve on my own.

The screen shows Emilia and I getting dressed to return to the Cornucopia, and I know nothing significant happens after this until the next day. I spent that time with Cristine and Sandra, Emilia and I having to keep our distance.

I'm still here in my house, and not there in the arena, so I ask Annie, "What have you been doing this whole time?"

"Listening, watching." Annie rests her arm on the couch and puts a hand to her face. "It wasn't an act with Emilia was it? You cared for her."

"I did." I admit. "Most people think it was an act. I think that's why the sponsors continued sending me gifts; because if I was playing two girls, I should have definitely been playing all three. And if I was playing all three, it would indicate that none of them meant anything to me which should have meant my sponsors had a chance at winning my heart." There's bitterness in my laugh. "Emilia is the only one who didn't fall for my antics, and people don't realize I greatly respected her for that. They think I played her, but because she didn't technically die by my hands, I haven't been ostracized."

Annie looks confused. "Kenin killed Sally."

I nod. "He did. But Sally attempted to kill him first and he acted in defense. It's admissible."

She scoots forward and puts a hand to my forearm. "I'm sorry for your loss. You two seemed close."

"Good friends created out of the chaos of the games." I look back to the screen—the editors have skipped ahead to a night scene where I pretended to be asleep because I didn't want the cameras on me—and see the dear friend I loss almost five years ago. The golden hair, blue eyes, slender frame; Emilia is staring up to the sky and I know in this scene that Emilia is thinking of her beloved Todd. She'd told me in the Training Center that Todd loved astrology, and looking to the false stars above our heads at the Cornucopia was the closest she could get with him. I can tell this by the look in Emilia's eyes.

As horrific as this is, the memories I have of Emilia are kept alive in the corners of my mind and in the screenings the Capitol controls. In death too, they control her. I face forward again and see the screen change to day three. My mind begins to leave Annie, but I'll return. And she'll be waiting. I am grateful to Annie beyond the cognitive abilities I possess to express this gratitude in words.

A few thoughts slip into my mind before I'm drawn into remembering. When did Annie and I begin holding hands? How long have we been holding hands? And is she aware of this? It seems unlikely this is the first time I've noticed our entwined hands, but apparently it is. I feel almost robbed. Am I completely blank-minded as to when this shift in closeness occurred? I don't get to savor the pleasure of this first it would seem. But I'll savor it now in these few moments before I go back to _there_.

Because honestly, I think to get through going back, I need Annie; here with me, next me, by my side. Holding my hand the entire time. Yes, I need her. I quickly remind myself I only need Annie for this, but another part of me whispers, _Nevertheless, you still need her._


	13. Chapter 13: 65th HG part2-Finn (&Ann)POV

***need to reread and edit, so if you read it before i do, sorry about errors. THANKS TO EVERYONE STILL READING, I APPRECIATE THOSE WHO HAVE BEEN FOLLOWING MY STORY; IT MEANS MORE THAN YOU WOULD EXPECT =] enjoy!**

**(idky, but 'hands on me' by vanessa carlton has been the best song for me to listen to while i write this)**

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: The 65th Hunger Games part 2**—**Finnick's POV (& Annie)**

It's the fourth day of the games and seven people are dead. Seventeen alive. Sixteen to die. One victor. Seven dead. Seventeen left. Seventeen. Six Careers. Eleven other tributes. The numbers are closing in to the point where our numbers and their numbers will soon be matched. Sixteen to go.

I've convinced the Careers we should move away from the Cornucopia in order to look for other tributes. I knew this would be the only reasoning they'd listen to, but ever since then, Emilia has been avoiding my eyes. That isn't the real reason I want to leave the Cornucopia though. When it's time for Emilia and I to leave, we should be in unfamiliar territory to shake the Careers off our trail. If we stay at the Cornucopia, we'll miss our chance.

Emilia is on the other side of the pact, talking with Perry. And I feel lonely. It's crazy and stupid to be worried about this in here, but it's at the back of my mind. We've been walking through a jungle of tall thick trees and dense bushes. The leaves are slick with the moist air and everyone is uncomfortable. The humidity is unusual and I know the gamemakers have created this arena to make us swelter and drive us into agitation. More than anyone, Sandra is on edge.

Yesterday she received burn medicine after being doused with sand, but her skin is blotchy and irritated. Gauze covers Sandra's face and arms but it must be acting as a sauna in this weather. Also, the medicine Sandra received was a dull brown instead of tan, so I'm guessing the medicine I got for Emilia was of better quality because her burned foot looked much better within several hours compared to Sandra's less severe burns.

In frustration, Sandra yells and begins hacking away at a tree. The trunk shudders with each hack, and it finally topples over, crashing to the floor, bringing down several other trees, and creating a clearing to open land. We're all surprised at the small squeak and shriek which comes when the last tree thunders against the jungle floor.

Eager for a kill as always, Sandra's head snaps in the direction of where the squeak came from, and she rushes over. Through the wreckage of splintered trunks and scattered leaves, a blonde girl with blue eyes is dragged out by her hair into the clearing ahead. We walk over to them, and Sandra is taunting the blonde by waving her sword around. I recognize her. She's from Nine.

"Hiding in the tree. I bet you thought you were so smart by doing that." Sandra sneers.

"Please," the blonde stammers, "please, I'll do anything."

"Anything?" Sandra seriously asks.

The hope I feel for this girl is reflected in Emilia's eyes. Neither of us wants this girl to die. It was dumb luck that Sandra's tantrum uncovered this girl's impressive hideout. Now she's at the mercy of Sandra. And yesterday the other girl died a gruesome death, so I wouldn't say Sandra is capable of mercy. My decision to explore away from the Cornucopia may be responsible for this girl's death if Sandra doesn't spare her life.

The blonde vigorously nods despite Sandra's tight grip on her hair. "Yes, yes! I'll do anything. Just name it."

Sandra puts her face in front of the girl's and cruelly smiles. "I want you to die."

"That's not what I meant." the girl feebly protests.

"It's what _I_ meant." Sandra counters.

It takes every fiber in me to not look down with grief and shame. For the third time, I'll be responsible for another tribute's death. Although, this will be my first indirect murder. _I never should have suggested we leave the Cornucopia. I should have waited. _Now, this girl is going to die.

Cristine giggles as Sandra kicks the girl in the stomach and tells her. "Get up."

The girl whimpers and struggles to her hands and knees. "Please stop it."

This comment infuriates Sandra, and she kicks the girl again with greater force. "I said get up! So get up right now!" Sobbing and clutching her sides, the girl struggles to her feet and stands up. "Very good." Sandra smiles, and then slams her elbow into the girl's face.

With no sign of resistance, the girl crumples to the ground; one hand to her side, the other to her face. Blood drips off the blonde's face, and the only sound she can make are strangled gurgles. This makes Cristine giggle hysterically, and though Sandra hates her, she smiles in response. Perry and Garrett are cheering Sandra on.

"Kill her!" Garrett yells. "Show them what Two can do."

"Yeah, kill her!" Perry throws in.

Sandra looks at me. Clearly, the only opinion she's really interested in is mine. And I can't let them see how appalling I find all of this. I put on a smirk and laugh, "Push her off the cliff." Hopefully the fall will kill the blonde, and that's the quickest death I could think of. If I'd told Sandra to stab her, she would have no doubt taken her time because her sword is like a pet. But if Sandra pushes the blonde over, maybe she'll be more focused on getting the blonde over rather than torturing her.

The look in the blonde's eyes tells me she sees me just as much as her murderer as Sandra is. I don't blame her. And I hope the grief in my eyes lets her know how sorry I am. How I wish things could be different. But one of us has to live, and I am not so selfless as to intervene. Her eyes soften, and for a moment I think she's understand why I suggested what I did. And that it's okay. It's okay. One of us has to live, and it's not going to be me.

But then Sandra hauls the girl to her feet and our eye contact is broken. In defiance, the blonde bashes her head into Sandra's nose, and takes a step back out of Sandra's reach. Screams of anger erupt from Sandra's mouth and she lurches for the blonde who jumps back several feet closer to the edge of the cliff. Losing all patience, Sandra darts forward with a speed none of us knew she possessed, and grabs the blonde by her neck, throttling her around.

"You broke my nose!" Sandra screams and tightens her squeeze. She pushes the blonde to the edge. "I will be happy to watch you fall to your death." In a last attempt of fight, the blonde kicks out, but more conscious now about being attacked in a tribute's last moments of life, Sandra's leg kicks back and breaks the girl's leg. "It's over." and then the girl is shoved off the cliff. Her screams abruptly stop upon a sickening _thud_ of a body meeting stone.

At the sound of a canon, Sandra turns to us smiling despite the blood soaking her gauze wrapped face. "That was easy."

But was it easier than it should have been? Did the girl realize Sandra would be far more vicious if given the chance to use her sword? Did she purposely lead Sandra to the edge where a quick death would become the inclined choice? I would like to think so; it would mean the girl understood I didn't want her to die. But it could just be a false conclusion from a desperate soul wanting to excuse their guilt.

It doesn't matter. Eight dead. Sixteen left. Fifteen who will die. One victor. Fifteen more deaths. Fifteen.

* * *

"Be careful!" Sandra snaps from her seat on a fallen tree.

Annoyed, Cristine snaps back. "I'm trying to help."

They're trying to fix Sandra's broken nose, but all Cristine has done is attempt to feel it.

Sandra pushes Cristine away and orders Emilia. "Golden hair, come here." Emilia walks over and bends down to Sandra's height. "You saw them fix my nose in the medic room. Do the same motion they did."

"I don't feel comfortable doing that." Emilia refuses. "I'm not a doctor."

"Yeah, well none of us are. And you're the best candidate." Sandra says grabbing Emilia by the shirt. "And you better not make it worse."

Emilia reaches out and then hesitates. "I need to remove the gauze."

Sandra nods. "Go ahead."

I'm standing behind Sandra, leaning against a tree, and watching Emilia. Cristine has stormed off to talk with Perry and Garrett. And I don't want to leave Emilia alone with Sandra. She closes her eyes and licks her lips to steady herself. Then she opens her eyes and begins working on Sandra. Very slowly she unwraps the gauze clockwise, slowing down when she has to peel the bloodied gauze apart.

I walk to them and stand in front of Sandra, so I can be next to Emilia. She doesn't look at me. The last layer of gauze comes off and I see Sandra's raccoon bruised eyes like the day Emilia broke her nose. Crusts of blood are coated on her face, and little pieces crumble into flakes and fall off. She's seen better days, but one can still detect the fierce beauty beneath the battery.

Emilia places her hands on Sandra's face, thumbs resting on the skin just above the upper lip. "It's going to hurt."

"I know." Sandra rolls her eyes. "Don't mess up."

Like a rattlesnake striking, Emilia's thumbs are suddenly on Sandra's nose with a quick jerking motion and something_ pops/crunches_. A shriek penetrates my brain and I see Sandra's head tilted back with her mouth open in a wide circle. Blood gushes out, and Emilia puts her hand beneath Sandra's chin. "Hold your head back. That's what you're supposed to do."

Fighting the pain, Sandra listens; green eyes staring at the sky above. Within minutes, the bleeding subsides and Emilia removes her blood soaked shaking hands. She's staring at the blood in shock. For the first time, she turns to me, and I see the same hysteria. Emilia is looking to me for help.

I nod in the direction behind Sandra, and say. "I can. Wash your hands."

She stumbles past us and disappears into the trees. I take my shirt off—partially to remind my sponsors why they're exactly that; my sponsors, but also because it's the only soft material near me—pressing it gently to Sandra's face with her head still tilted back. Gratefully, she wraps a few fingers around my wrist and softly says, "If I could kill Cristine now, I would. And that stupid little partner of yours."

"Cristine, I wish you could. Emilia, we need for now. She's been very helpful with supplying our group with food."

Sandra's eyes flick in Cristine's direction. "I see the way she looks at you." My heart stops. "I can't believe she thinks she would ever have a shot." I breathe in slowly.

I softly laugh and make sure she sees me roll my eyes. "Yeah right. That would never happen."

Desire flashes in her green eyes. "If the other tributes wouldn't use us to our disadvantage, I'd give you a kiss right now."

As if I'm readjusting my shirt under Sandra's nose, I lean forward and whisper. "You know I'd do a lot more than just that to you."

It may be corny, but I kiss my thumb and press it to Sandra's lips. Even in the moments before my possible death when other things should be more important, I find myself amazed that these silly tricks work so well. Do they really believe I love them? Can they really be this blind?

Sandra's breathing slows and she whispers, "Give me some time to recuperate. I'm injured, not disabled."

"Sounds perfect." I tell her. I look back at the Careers and see Cristine looking our way. It's about time I end my flirting with Sandra for now anyways because I need to look for Emilia. "Emilia went ahead to go hunting. I need to catch up with her." I call out to Cristine. "Can you help Sandra? Emilia and I are going hunting."

Glad I'm talking to her, Cristine nods and gives me an endearing look. I'm sure Sandra sees this, but I vanquish any doubts when I turn back around and roll my eyes. She smirks and waves goodbye. I go in the direction Emilia went, and follow her tracks. About a quarter mile away I find Emilia squatting down, sobbing with her hands held in front.

Emilia hears me and stands up. "Stay right there."

I stop moving and ask. "Are you okay?"

"Do I look okay Finnick?" Emilia sobs. "Do I seem okay with any of this?" she asks in an implicative tone.

"You think I am?" I ask defensively.

She contemptibly laughs. "Oh, I don't know. You sure seem to fit in with the Careers. Suggesting we look for other tributes to kill."

"You should know that's not what I want."

"I just-" Emilia breaks off. A few more tears roll down her cheeks. "I need to hear you say it."

"Say what?"

Her shoulders are shaking and she looks at me with great sadness. "I should know you, but I need to hear you say it. That you're true intention for leaving the Cornucopia wasn't to look for other tributes. That you didn't want Sandra to kill that poor girl. I need you to mean it."

Hurt, I go over to her, and put my hands to her cheek. "I wanted us to leave the Cornucopia so we'll have an escape plan. I wanted Sandra to spare the girl but when it became obvious she wouldn't, the best way for the girl to die was to be shoved off the cliff. Sandra would have tortured her with the sword. And I mean all of it. For us to survive though, I need to seem like I'm one of them."

"I knew it." she whispers. "I knew it. But I had to hear you say it. These games make it hard to know who is on your side."

"I am." I tell her. "Our survival is the most important thing. Even if it means other people have to die."

Emilia buries her face in my chest. "I hate this Finnick. I really do. I don't know how much more of this I can take." she cries into my chest, and I put my hands on her back.

I'm already beaten past the point of exhaustion. I just want this to end. But Emilia needs me to be strong, so I'll push my own feelings to the side. "We'll leave them soon. I promise. A few more days. When the other tributes' numbers have dwindled enough. There should be enough of them left to match the Careers numbers in a few days, and then we'll go."

* * *

_Annie POV_

It's the fifth day of Finnick's game on the screens, and on this day he killed two tributes. He saw the boy tribute from Nine in a clearing, and he told me he knew Sandra wanted to kill him. But she didn't just kill her victims, she played with them like a scrap of meat. Purely entertainment. So before the other Careers got to him, Finnick threw his spear and killed the boy instantaneously. Not only did this impress the Careers, but it prevented the boy from falling into the hands of Sandra.

Not much else happened after this kill, so minutes later the next screening showed Finnick spearing a girl from Five through the heart. She was collecting water from a small waterfall, and Finnick dove into the pool of water, attacking when his head broke the surface only yards away. The Careers cheered and congratulated him, and he accepted with a huge grin and hearty laugh.

I'm not sure if Finnick realizes this, but he's been talking aloud his entire screening. The Capitol shows about an hour of his games with thirty minute breaks, and after a total of four hours of his game, they go on a break for six hours in order to allow people to sleep without missing his game. But it doesn't end there for Finnick. While the filler programs play on the screen, he stares ahead blankly, and talks about his games as if he's there right now. Telling me what's going on in his mind, the thoughts he has, his conversations with people, his feelings, scenes not shown to Panem.

On the screen, he and Emilia are far away from the Careers, after Finnick killed the girl.

The on screen Finnick says, "I had to do it. Sandra would have gotten to them."

"I know." Emilia softly says. "I know Finnick."

"That's four tributes Emilia. Four." Screen Finnick buries his head in his hands. "Am I simply justifying their deaths? Excusing my own guilt?"

Emilia puts removes his hands from his face, and shakes her head. "You were saving them from a worst fate. You're paying a terrible price to give them mercy, it makes you a good person."

They begin kissing and shedding their clothes, and this will go on for at least a few hours—Finnick apparently has incredible stamina all day long considering there's three girls with multiple sexual encounters—and whenever a sex scene with Finnick comes on, the Capitol shows the entire scene. It's during these scenes that Finnick will go back to scenes already past, and talk extensively about what's going on in his mind. Like he's reliving every moment.

The Finnick stuck in the games but physically next to me begins talking. "I see the girl, but also the same blood hungry look on Sandra's face when she saw the boy I killed. It would kill me to do it, but I have to kill the girl too. Sandra hasn't had a kill in over a day, and I know she's antsy. So I dive into the water, and swim beneath. It feels good to be enveloped by water, gracefully floating like how I did in Four when given the chance. But it's not the same, because I'm swimming to kill another person.

When I last saw her, the girl was at the edge, which means I must be at least a few yards away. Best to do it when she isn't paying attention; that way she doesn't know these next few seconds will be her last. I push off the bottom of the pool, and spring out of the water. She doesn't have time to turn around. Once I feel air touching my face, I hurl my spear and it plunges into her heart.

The girl just crumples to the ground. Red seeping into the water, and a cannon _booms_. The Careers are still watching so I climb out of the water, and greet them. They're cheering me on and slapping my back.

Garrett says, "Nice aim. She didn't have a chance."

Cristine giggles, "Look at all that blood."

Sandra's laugh is high pitch and grating. "I wish I could see that one more time."

"That was good." Emilia says, and it's the first time she's ever made a comment like this. She must have decided if we're to survive, she needs to adopt their personality. There may be a grin on my face, and I may be laughing with them, but I need to get out of here. I need to be away from this.

"I'm starved now. I'll look for some birds to eat. We've been eating rodents for the past five days." I tell them.

They agree and I take off, hoping Emilia won't follow. Because I need time to grieve for the tributes I've killed. The sons and daughters, brothers and sisters; loved ones who belonged to a family. Who am I to have destroyed all these families? I don't even have one. Wouldn't it have been better if I'd died? It's not like I have anyone to mourn me.

I put about a mile between the Careers and I but Emilia has followed me the entire way. So I can't cry, not now. Emilia can't see me that way. Distraught, I turn to her and say, "I had to do it. Sandra would have gotten to them."

"I know." Emilia softly says taking a step towards me. "I know Finnick."

How can she still be here for me? I'm a murderer. "That's four tributes Emilia. Four." No longer able to face her, I bury my head in my hands. "Am I simply justifying their deaths? Excusing my own guilt?"

It comforts me when Emilia puts her hands to mine, and removes them from my face. I find comfort in her blue eyes. "You were saving them from a worst fate. You're paying a terrible price to give them mercy, it makes you a good person." It's a lie, but I'm grateful for her kindness. Emilia must know I need company because she presses her soft lips against mine."

There's a pause, and for the first time throughout his entire screening, Finnick begins to cry. One hand is covering his mouth, and he stares at the screen with tears streaming down his face. "The touch of Emilia's flesh against my body feels so good, but all I can think about are the people I killed. How can I allow myself to feel pleasure after what I've done. They'll never be able to, why should I be able to?"

I get it. Finnick is crying the tears he never got the chance to during his game. This right here, is what he would have done in real life. Finnick shakes his head, and his eyes are red. "They're dead because of me. I can never make up for what I've done. How could I have killed them all so easily?" he closes his eyes and silently sobs; body heaving with each broken breath. I can hear strangled cries muffled into his palm.

Tears begin to form in my eyes, but Finnick doesn't need me to be sad with him. He needs me to be here _for_ him. So I take a deep breath and scoot over, putting my arms around him. Unconsciously, Finnick pushes his face to my shoulder and I let him cry there. I feel each sob in his body. I hear the incoherent cries of anguish. I feel a fraction of the pain he is reliving and carries with him at all times. I'll never know what he went through, but I can try to understand it.

* * *

I blink and put a hand to my head. It's wet. The only thing I can think to dumbly say is, "My hair is wet."

Next to me, Annie stirs and rubs her eyes. "What?"

"My hair," I turn to face her, still a bit dazed, "it's wet."

"Yeah," she answers, and widens her eyes in an attempt to drive away the sleep, "you took a shower."

"I did?" I hear the surprise in my voice. "When?"

Annie stretches and sits up. "Several minutes ago."

The last thing I remember is my game. Emilia and I were having sex, but all I could think about were the dead tributes. This last thought brings up a welling sense of sadness, but it makes my throat tenderly ache. Have I been crying? I reach up and feel puffy eyelids and swollen bags beneath my eyes. I have been crying.

This means there's no point in trying to conceal my grief. Evidence such as these temporary physical changes aren't so easily hidden. So the next best thing I can do is figure things out. "I don't remember taking a shower." Okay, so I'm not exactly figuring things out. I'm asking questions I should know the answers to and am making useless statements.

But Annie talks to me as if I'm not having this momentary mental deficit. "You're mind was on other things. You didn't realize you were taking a shower when you were in there, I doubt you would remember it now."

"You were there?" it seems like such an odd concept because Annie and I would never happen. She's too good.

My question makes her blush and she shyly says, "I've seen you naked before Finnick."

The feel of a joke is perched on my tongue, but I'm too exhausted to fully develop the thought let alone say it. Instead, I nod. "Fair enough. Why did I take a shower though?"

Annie should find it weird that I'm asking her for answers to my own actions, but it's like she expects this to be my response because she readily replies, "You needed to clean up. Killing the tributes was hard for you."

Okay, so that's when I began to cry, and then I took a shower. And then I woke her up. "I'm sorry if I woke you up."

"Don't be. I just dozed off. I've gotten a few hours of sleep already." she smiles. "I'm good. Don't worry about me."

I'm about to say something else, but then my game returns to the screen and it shows Emilia and I sitting around the campfire with the tributes. I know this scene, and without a fight, I'm pulled into the night's darkness.

* * *

In front of us a warm fire cackles banishing the unnatural frigid temperature in this humid terrain. It's pitch black unlike the other nights, and I can feel the foreboding presence of death. The jungle is silent. The gamemakers are holding their breath waiting for something terrible to happen. It's going to be tonight.

Ten dead. Fourteen alive. Thirteen to be killed. One victor. Thirteen of us left before someone wins. Thirteen.

Everyone else is eating, and I'm counting, when we hear it. _Boom. _One. _Boom. _Two. _Boom. _Three. _Boom. _Four. _Boom. _Five. _Boom. _Six. _Boom. _Seven. _Silence. _Seven. Seventeen dead—seven left—one victor—six careers—seven tributes—just like that, Emilia and I are next. I grab the blankets beneath me, take Emilia's hand, and toss the blankets into the fire smothering it. We're thrown into darkness, and the Careers' startled yelps come in all directions.

But I know where to go. I drag Emilia with me, and she stumbles a few times. Even when she falls, I don't stop. This is not the time to spare her feelings or be concerned about the minor injuries she may acquire. The familiar trickling of a stream is in front of us, and we splash through the water to dry land. Several yards later, the slope of a hill leads me down to a thicket which stretches along the bottom of a cliff. I blindly feel the thicket until my hand goes through a small gap and I know this is the place.

I push forward and my body steps into the hidden mouth of a cave. Next to me, Emilia is wincing at a few cuts from our barging through. I reach out and touch her waist which gives me an estimate as to where my hands are, so I feel for her shoulders from there. "I'm sorry if you got hurt."

A warm liquid coats the tips of my fingers, but Emilia shrugs. "It's fine." Cautiously, she eases herself down. "Why are we here? Wherever here is."

My hands are still on her shoulders, so I slowly lower myself and take a seat. "Our time expired. Six cannons at the Cornucopia, two from Sandra, two from me, and seven tonight."

"Okay." Sandra slowly says.

"Seventeen tributes are dead." I say in a hushed voice. "Seven of us are left. Six of us are Careers."

Emilia breathes in. "Only one person isn't a part of our pact."

I nod in the darkness. "Yes. The games are coming to an end. We would be next on the Careers' list."

She doesn't say anything for a minute. It's a lot to digest. Our game's time has suddenly been cut short with the abrupt deaths of seven tributes. Almost a third of all the tributes from the very beginning have been killed within seconds. Unless there was some other bloodbath and the gamemakers waited until a clear count could be tallied. Whatever happened, all of us are literally in the dark about it. Suddenly the game seems that much more dangerous, which is dumb because with people killing each other the game has always been dangerous. But with the number of tributes this low, the fight to death has taken on a different angle.

Quietly, Emilia finds her voice breaking the silence. "We weren't supposed to stick together up to this point."

"I know." I say in a heavy voice. She's right. One of us will eventually need to take or give. Better her than me. "Emilia, listen to me." I take her hand. "I remember what you made me promise, but hear me out." It won't make up for what I've done, but it's the one good thing that can come out of me surviving up until now. The one good thing which can come from my life. "You have a family back in Four who is waiting for you to return. They're waiting for you."

"Finnick." she softly says.

"You also have Todd. I'm sure, despite everything, he still loves you very much. We may be young, but he must love you the best way people our age possibly can. That counts for a lot. You're loved in Four, you're missed, you would be mourned."

She tries to stop me. "Finnick, you would be missed too."

I ask the truth. "By who Emilia? If you become victor, you're the only one who would miss me. At least I'm assuming you would."

Emilia manages a laugh. "Of course I would."

I feel for her face, and lightly kiss her forehead. "That's more than enough for me to depart with." she begins to cry accepting what I am saying. "Our agreement has changed. I am going to help you survive until it's just the two of us left. When it comes down to that-" Emilia sobs putting her hands to my forearms, and grasping them. "When that happens," I repeat, "you kill me, okay?" Emilia's cry must echo the thousands of distraught sponsors who have been helping me this entire time. But she nods between each sob. It's not enough. "You need to promise me Emilia."

She lets out a long cry and though her voice sounds discombobulated, she says the two words I need to hear. "I promise." After that, Emilia can't say anything else, and she collapses in my arms, sobbing at the terrible thing I've made her promise.

I hold her in my arms, and rub her back. "It's okay. It's okay." I softly murmur. "You'll be alright." We don't have sex, we don't seek the comfort of another's flesh. We spend our dwindling moments together the way good friends would.

Hours past before Emilia falls asleep; the only reason she stops crying. Me, I stay up for several hours after. Remembering the way it feels to have her in my arms. The next few days are going to be my last memories, and I want to take whatever good I can. Because my entire life has been the epitome of meaningless. What else do I have to take with me? My looks, my trident skills, the numerous girls? None of it means anything. But Emilia, she's shown me a different side to life. The potential it could have had. Friendship, care, concern, sacrifice. The things that are important. And because of her, I can die taking that with me. It counts for more than anything I could have done myself.

* * *

The sunlight wakes me up and I look around in confusion. This isn't the campfire. It slowly comes back to me. Seventeen are dead. Seven alive. Six Careers. We left them. One victor. Emilia will be victor. She's sleeping in the crook of my arm, and I slowly position my jacket beneath her head as I move away. All of our supplies were with the Careers, so I should look around for some food. The stream is nearby, but I'm not sure about food.

I take one last look at Emilia's peaceful figure before leaving to explore. Approximately two miles away, I find these vines which are sturdy like rope. There's a lot of food between here and the cave, so I can use this time to just be by myself. I've made up my mind to die, and before that happens I would like to tie some knots to ease my mind by doing one of the few things I'm good at and enjoy. A few hours later, I've made a net with nearly a ten foot radius. What can I say, I have nimble-quick-working fingers.

My spirit is high after creating the net, and I cheerfully walk back towards the cave. Despite my inevitable death, it's a beautiful day, and Emilia and I have left the Careers. I only want her to live. Everything else does not matter.

I walk out from behind a random thicket, and jump back. The Careers are standing near the cave's mouth. Thankfully they didn't see me, but it may be only a matter of time before they discover Emilia. I can't take that chance. Sooner or later I'll have to kill them; might as well make it now while they're all in one place. On three. One. Tw-

Something bumps me from behind, and I spin around stabbing it with my spear. It's a parachute. Great, I killed a box. I peer over the thicket and see the Careers still standing around talking to each other. They haven't discovered Emilia yet, I think I afford to look in the box. Whatever it is, it can't be much help against-

My thought comes to a stop for a second time. Can it be? I reach in, letting my spear fall, and wrap my hands around a heavy metal handle. Three beautiful prongs flash in the sunlight. It's the one thing I need in order to kill everyone else and have Emilia become victor. Somehow Mags and Sam have accumulated enough money to send me a trident. A trident! This is it. I've won; Emilia gets to live.

I spin it once in my hands to remember its feel as one of my last memories, and then I come around the thicket with the net tossed over my left shoulder. In seconds I've run several yards with my trident in hand, and then the Careers notice me. Garrett and Perry are the first to attack, but Cristine and Sandra hesitate. Several arrows shot by Garrett fly at me, but with a few simple twists of my trident, the prongs easily deflect them. Perry throws a dagger which I knock to the side, and then he throws a sword.

I time it just right, and catch the sword's handle between the prongs. By continuously turning the trident's handle clockwise at a great speed, I keep the handle locked between the prongs. At this point, I'm less than twenty feet away when I hit the trident's handle once with my left hand. This stops the turning, and the sword flies out from between the prongs, burying itself deep into Sandra's skull. Her body drops to the ground as Perry gapes at the dead Career next to him. They wonder if I'd intended to do that, and that hesitation kills Perry.

I switch the trident over to my left hand and grab the net with my right. With one throw, the net ensnares Perry, and I immediately yank my hand back, the force sweeping him off his feet. He soars through the air and lands a few yards in front of me with a _thud_. Once I hear his body contact the ground, my left hand is thrusting down and the trident flies through the air piercing his back. I see Cristine draw a dagger, and I give her a wide eyed look as I run to Perry's body. This endearing look messes with her mind and with far less accuracy, than I know she possesses, Cristine throws the dagger at me which I easily avoid by using my left arm as a shield. If she hadn't fallen for my lies, Cristine should have been able to hit my head easily.

I've pulled the trident out of Perry and have my right arm drawn back. The two Careers know my aim will be true, and it's a matter of whoever can run the fastest will be the one I don't target. Garrett darts in front of Cristine and runs into the vegetation, and my trident flings through the air into the coverage of trees just as Cristine disappears from sight. A loud cry sounds within seconds, and I run over to retrieve my trident. Cristine's body is crumpled against the ground with my trident stuck between both shoulder-blades. I tightly grip the trident, and yank it out. She shrieks again, and I know by the blood loss she'll be dead within a few minutes. It may be the more humane thing to stab her again and kill her quickly, but I don't know if that'll hasten the process or if I'll just cause her more pain. Instead of waiting around, I'll let the gamemakers announce when she's dead.

I'm in front of the thicket and loudly announce. "Emilia, it's just me. I got three of the Careers. You'll be victor very soon. Can you believe how things worked ou-"

My trident falls to the cave floor and clatters against the stone. Blood is everywhere! I nearly slip in it and have to grab the cave's side to steady my balance. Where did all this blood come from? I look further into the cave and see Emilia lying on the ground in a pool of blood.

"Emilia!" I scream running over to her.

"Finnick?" she feebly asks in a hysterical tone. Emilia turns to look at me, and her body is shaking as she lets out a cry of relief mixed with pain.

I'm kneeling down in blood, my hands unsure of where to touch because she's just covered in gashes. My eyes are able to focus, despite the interference of red, on her stomach. It's been torn open and I can see her intestines. Blood is profusely pushing out, and I grab my jacket next to her head, spreading it over her stomach and applying pressure. Emilia gasps in pain and coughs blood into my face.

_Boom. Boom. Boom. _The cannons reverberate in the cave. I blink Emilia's blood out of my eyes and grit my teeth. "No, no! This can't be happening."

Somehow Emilia finds the strength to bitterly laugh. "It seems like you're initial plan to have another tribute kill one of us exceeds our last agreement."

"No." I fiercely say. "No! What happened?"

"Sandra finally did what she threatened all along. She tore out my insides." Emilia is still shaking with little cries of pain, but it's like she's in a mania because she laughs at this statement.

"No." I begin to sob. "They're back inside you. You're gonna be okay."

Emilia smiles. "Finnick, you've never been able to fool me. You should know that."

My head is bowed and I don't bother to hide my tears. This time I cry, and Emilia is the strong one. She just smiles and touches my face with her hand wiping away my tears. I press my face into her palm, and stay that way for several minutes. I can't talk, my throat is squeezed shut in agony; I can't move, my muscles won't obey; I can't see, tears overwhelm my vision; I can't believe this, we're too damn close. I am not going to let Emilia die! Even if it means I have to keep my hands pressed to her stomach for days.

When I look up, I see that Emilia's eyes are closed and I about scream in panic until I realize she's fallen asleep. Not the best of signs, but her breathing seems stronger than it was a few minutes ago. The pressure must be stopping her blood loss and keeping the rest of her together. Suddenly I feel so drained and beaten down, so I close my eyes with my full weight still pressing down.

* * *

"Finnick?" a soft voice breaks through my sleep.

Instantly my eyes open and I see Emilia's blue eyes in the light of a lantern attached to a parachute which Mags must have sent while we slept. It's dark outside which means several hours have passed. "Hey, I'm right here."

She gives me a weak smile. "I'm glad you are."

I carefully lean over, keeping my hands firmly pressed to her stomach, and kiss her blood smeared lips. "Of course I am. I'll always be."

Emilia kisses me back for several seconds, as if savoring the feel, and I realize why with her next words. "You need to let me go."

It takes me a second to comprehend what she's saying. "No, no. No!" I shake my head. "Absolutely not. Listen to me." I feel the tears flood my eyes and drip onto her. "You're going to be alright." Emilia lets out a doubting laugh. "You are! Just wait. There's only three of us left. Maybe the other tribute will die. And when that happens, I'll kill myself. I'll make it quick that way they'll have to come for you."

"Finnick."

"No! They'll have to! Then they'll rescue you and save you. They'll fix you up like they did when you got into the fight!" I'm shaking my head, flinging the tears away. "You're going to be alright. They'll have to come for you!"

"Finnick, stop it." Emilia weakly pleads.

My face is contorted into grief, and I kiss her forehead. "No. Just hold on. You don't get to give up on me. We agreed you would be victor. You are going to make it out alive!"

Tears drip out of the side of Emilia's eyes; blue glistening beneath salty water. "I'm not sure if I want to be victor after this Finnick. Don't you see?" she slowly breathes in. "This was the best way for how things should turn out. You won't be ostracized for killing me. And I won't live to see your death." she begins to cry. "I don't want to win anymore Finnick. I've already had nightmares about being here. How much worse would it get if I survived?" Emilia smiles through her tears. "You'll be okay though. I know you will. I have faith in you."

I press my forehead to hers. "Don't. I won't be okay."

"You will be." Emilia confidently says. "One day you will be." her eyes squeeze shut in pain. "You need to survive Finnick, you're strong enough to get past this. If I won, I don't think I would be able to handle knowing what I lived through." a deep knowing sigh. "But you could. And you will. You can do it Finnick. You have to." Emilia repeats to me, what I said a long time ago; the time just feels that way. "One of us has to survive. It's going to be you."

Another cry escapes my lips, and tears drip onto her face. Is this how Emilia felt last night? When she accepted my truth? Things flipped and now I need to accept her truth. "This is all wrong. You were supposed to win."

Emilia briefly pushes her lips to mine. "Think of it as a gift to me Finnick. I'm relieved things ended up this way. I don't think I could have killed you, and I don't want to be a survivor. Not of this." she runs her fingers through my hair. "By you living, you're relieving me of the burden I would carry from winning. It's selfish I want you to win, but I just know that you'll be okay. I wouldn't."

"You aren't supposed to die." I tormentedly whisper.

"There aren't any guarantees in life Finnick. This is how it is." Emilia wets her lips. "Besides, the pain I'm in is unbearable. This isn't living."

My lips tremble. "I can't let you go."

"You have to." Emilia says. "It would be cruel not to."

I lift my face away, and see the deathly paleness to Emilia's face. "Is there anything you would like before-" I can't say it.

She smiles. "Some painkillers. To ease the pain before I go. I don't want my last moments to be in this agonizing pain."

"You heard her." I softly whisper without looking up.

In seconds, a parachute floats into the cave next to Emilia's hand. She fumbles with the clasp before getting it open, and takes two green pills out. Unafraid, she pops them into her mouth and looks at the note. _Here you go sweetie. It was nice knowing you._

"Nice to know you too Mags and Sam. Thank you for the drugs." Emilia tells them.

I've never wanted to die more than when I say the next words. "Tell me when the drugs are working, then I'll let go."

Emilia's blue eyes stare into mine. She coughs and laughs, asking without any expectations, "Do you think we would have had a chance in Four?"

"Us?"

She nods. "Yeah."

"Definitely not." I kiss her lips. "I would never disrespect you like that."

"Good." Emilia smiles returning my kiss. "I thought your answer would be something along those lines." her lips kiss me again. "I would have liked very much to be your friend there. If we'd met under different circumstances."

I breathe in. "The pleasure would have been mine."

Emilia's hands rest on mine. "I love you Finnick. You've been a great friend."

"I love you too Emilia." I reply meaning every word. It's the first time I've ever told a girl that. "I wish two victors would be allowed because then we would have gone back to Four and I'd have you there as my good friend."

"You would have met Todd." she smiles. "You wouldn't have to be so lonely then." That digs into me like a knife. But I just smile and nod. Emilia keeps talking. "You would have come over and had dinner with us every night. I would have seen your little charades from the side and rolled my eyes. All would haves that will never be." she painfully swallows and squeezes my hand. "But we do have a friendship born from _this_. That counts."

My shoulders shudder from the subsiding tears. "It counts for a lot. More than I could have ever asked for."

"I'm glad." Emilia warmly tells me. "That's good to hear." she closes her eyes, but when she opens them again, the blue shines with a different light. "Finnick, the drugs started working minutes ago. It's time. I don't feel anything." the tears begin to pour again, and Emilia wipes them away with her thumb. "It's okay Finnick. It's okay. I'm not in pain."

Very slowly I remove my hands, and blood begins to seep down her sides again. She'll be gone soon, so I earnestly tell her. "I do love you Emilia. I do."

She gives me a beautiful smile and I'll never forget the blue. "As good friends. I know Finnick. I know. I feel the same way. We made," her breathing slows, "a great team, didn't..."

Nothing. She's gone.

I sit back against the wall and let my head fall into my hands. I'm not even allowed time to grieve. I need to be out of here in a few minutes before the craft appears. Just a few moments. That's all I need.

It may not be the love between a guy and a girl that people expect, but I did love Emilia. I loved her a lot. She is the only friend I've ever known. She's the only girl I've been with whom I loved. And though our love may not have been in the way of us being soul mates, it's a different kind of deep love. The deep love between friends. A friendship born out of our world's tragedy.

Blood, sweat, and tears; happiness, comfort, laughter; Emilia, me, us.

* * *

thank you for reading another chapter; hope you enjoyed it!

until next chapter =]


	14. Chapter 14:65th HG's End & Capitol Trip

**hey guys, here's 14 =] hope you enjoy it! thank you to all my readers, i appreciate you all and the reviews =]**

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: 65th Hunger Games' End & Trip to the Capitol**

_Finnick POV_

It's the seventh day of the 65th Hunger Games. Exactly one week since twenty four lives were thrown into this arena only to be slaughtered. Eleven days since I met Emilia. A few hours since I watched my friend die and had to leave her body behind. Three tributes left where one of us will survive. The games will come to an end today. That, I am sure. If I'll win, I can't be certain.

The sky is still black but it's lightened with the early morning and I've been looking for Garrett from the moment I left Emilia's lifeless body. He was there when Emilia was butchered and left to die. It may not be my call, but in my eyes, he deserves to die just as all the Careers did. I am going to kill him.

A bird chirps overhead but I don't look up. It would be good eating, however, I intend to bring the games to an end today. Find the remaining tributes; kill Garrett, and we'll see what happens with the last girl. The only other person aside from Garrett who hasn't appeared during the anthem for dead tributes is this girl from Three. I don't remember much about her from the Training Center. Only that she had red hair and brown eyes like the boy tribute from her district who Garrett smashed into the Cornucopia's side. Their specialty is electrical, but I don't see how that comes to their advantage in a jungle.

To my left, something rolls over and I freeze. It could be a mutt, or it could be another tribute. I crouch down and barely make out the sleeping figure of a person. Whoever it is, this is the opportune moment to catch them off guard and bring the games down to the final two tributes. Without them having ever been aware of what was happening, I throw the net with ease, trap them within the overgrowth of the plants they're sleeping under, and swiftly end their life with the throw of my trident. _Boom._ A cannon sounds seconds later.

I pull the net and drag the dead tribute towards me so I can get my trident. It wrenches out of their body, the motion making them roll over onto their back, revealing the dead tribute to be Garrett. Good. I got to kill him before my possible death. _Good? Is that what I've become? Thinking it's good a person is dead. Good. Maybe I shouldn't come out of these games alive._

For hours I wander around aimlessly, not really looking for the girl from Three, but just wandering. Waiting for something to happen. Because, do I really want to kill one more person? One more death would mean nine people are dead by my doing. Eight are already dead corpses in a holding room somewhere. Eight! When did the total number of my kills become so exponentially high from the first day? It must be a record for the Hunger Games, and I hold the title. What a ghastly title.

A thin line strains beneath the pressure of my foot pressing on it and I look down. It's a silver wire. The same as the one Cristine found in the Cornucopia. What would it be doing here? Unless, someone rigged it for a trap. Do I remove my foot and possibly escape? Or do I wait until I'm caught? Who wants to live after all of this anyway?

Before I make up my mind on what to do, an exploding jolt of pain bursts out of the wire and into my foot sending electrical currents throughout my entire body. The force is incredible. My arms fling out in front of me throwing my trident and net onto the ground where they strangely begin to _buzz._ And I'm thrown a few feet back. The ground rushes up to meet me, knocking the air from my lungs and stopping my heart. It's strange to feel your heart stop when your mind keeps working. You're paralyzed, suffocating, awake but unconscious, numb but tingling with pain. So strange.

Everything is sideways, and I can see the silver wire running along the jungle floor beneath a covering of leaves and random plants. How intricate. A different type of net meant for catching humans. But the net itself is the weapon. One touch and it's meant to kill its victim. I guess I wasn't touching enough of the wire. What a pity. I would have liked very much for my heart to have given out. Instead, I'm lying here helplessly, not in control of my rigid body, teeth gritted together so tightly it feels as if they will shatter. If only I'd been touching just a bit more of the wire. This would all be over.

My vision is a bit hazy, but I see a tall girl with red hair step out from behind a dense section of trees. Somehow she walks over the wire without being shocked and briefly looks over me. I'm not sure what she sees, but I see rubber gloves on her hand. This mean that however this trap works, she needs to be able to disconnect and connect it at will but it's a direct link; hence the gloves. Maybe she just sees a stupid golden boy who used his looks to gain sponsors. Maybe she sees me as a defenseless threat rendered useless by her creation. Whatever she sees, it doesn't raise any flags.

If I could, I would have screamed in agony when she grabs me by my singed arms, dragging me into the middle of the chaos of wires. Every inch of skin is searing in pain and feels utterly raw and burnt. I've been burnt by fire, but this burn goes all the way down into the deep layers of the muscle's tissue. Every nerve fiber is activated and on high alert for the slightest sensation. Carelessly, she drops my arms which shoots pain into all my sensors, and my right arm painfully _smacks_ against my trident. She has a smirk on her face when she sees me looking at the trident, and she gives a slight almost undetectable shake of her head. _Stare all you want, you'll never be able to use it. Look at you. You can barely lie here. You're not even breathing._

Her eyes are right. I still have yet to take a breath. My throat is clear, but I can't make my lungs inflate or deflate. They're paralyzed. _Goodbye Finnick Odair_, her eyes flash. I watch her take a step. _Is this how I want to die? Caught in a net like a fish._ I look up to the blue sky and think of Emilia. Her blue eyes which shined so determinedly despite dying, making me promise to win. _Damnit Finnick breathe! You have to win. You have to! You promised me and I'm dead. I am dead but you are not. You don't get to give up like this. Not when we're so close. Breathe damnit!_

My lungs twitch and a gasp of air filters between my lips pushing down my throat filling my lungs by a fraction. But it's something. It's enough. My left hand moves and my fingers wrap around the vines. The girl only has a few more steps before she's cleared the net. There, right there! Her foot will land in that gap and—now! I pull with all my strength which sends blinding white pain into every pore, but I hear the girl stumble and roughly fall to the ground. The pain is so great that I can't see, but movement is returning to all my limbs. She's scrambling on the ground, no doubt heading towards whatever creates the direct link between these wires and death.

For a second my vision clears and I see her. She's nearly cleared the wires. My skin feels stretched thin to the very core and as if someone is skinning me alive from the inside out, but I cast the net over my head in her direction. The slight tug of the vine between my hands lets me know she's caught, and I immediately pull the net back. She's not completely caught in the net, but hopefully it's enough to delay her. I can't see through the pain, but another tug of the net helps me estimate where she is—it's like the vibrations of when fish thrash against a net—and I throw my trident. It's an estimate, no guarantee as Emilia would have put it, but I've had to make estimated throws back in Four so many times it is unlikely I would miss a target so big. The tugging stops, and my vision clears again for a few more seconds allowing me to see the trident buried into the girl's torso. Blood flows out, soaking the ground, and with every drip her life slips away.

* * *

_Annie POV_

"_Boom._" Finnick quietly whispers.

The way he says it is so eerie because it seems to float around the silence in his house haunting the open spaces. The game's screening ended over an hour ago but Finnick is still sitting hunched over, right hand wrapped around his left, both hands pressed to his lips, elbows resting on his knees. It seems his version of the games has come to an end too. Finnick blinks once, then twice, and looks around.

The recognition of familiarity is distant and confused. I use my voice to guide him back. "Hey."

"Annie?" he uncertainly asks.

"I'm here Finnick."

He wraps his hand around mine. "You stayed."

It's been emotional and tense, more than I can handle, but I don't pull away. "I did."

When Finnick looks at me, I know he's back. Gratefully he breathes, "Thank you."

"Of course." I reply slowly. It's a relief to have him back. For a reason I can't bring myself to acknowledge. And because he's officially returned. "Are you okay?"

"I will be." he sighs. Finnick leans back into the couch, exhausted from this entire ordeal. "Give me a minute."

I lean back and turn my head to him. "Take all the time you need."

He closes his eyes causing tears to fall out from the sides. It's the first time he's consciously cried while I'm here. Shaky breaths erratically fluctuate his chest up and down, and I can hear the smothered sobs. Finnick doesn't bother to wipe his face. Instead he sits there, head tilted to the ceiling, letting the cries work their way out of his system. His face is consumed with a form of grief I've never seen before. Not even when I held Kenin closely and let him cry about things he didn't speak of.

And suddenly, I am so exhausted too. Some foreign part of me feels wiped out, and I think it has to do with the fact I've never helped someone, with Finnick and I's relationship, through these times of need. I cared about Joln a great deal, but we never talked private emotions such as the ones which were the cause of breaking a person. I left him alone when he was sad, and I never told him of my past. With Finnick, I care about him, and somehow I've been here for him. It's so different than anything I've done before, and I don't know how to handle this, yet I've been managing.

Finnick had every reason to be surprised I stayed. I am surprised myself. All of this is very uncharacteristic. Yet I'm here, and am not leaving. Too tired to think upon this further, I scoot up next to Finnick and rest my head against his shoulder. It's firm and comforting. He must find it to be the same because shortly after, Finnick's head rests against mine, occasionally shaking with suppressed cries. It's been nearly forty-eight hours since I've gotten any rest though, and each shake lulls me into sleep like I'm on his boat riding the waves.

* * *

_Finnick POV_

It's dark when I wake up, and for the briefest moment, I believe I'm back in my game. Sheer dread and despair grip me with an icy blanket, and a cold sweat breaks out over my body. Forehead sweaty, palms clammy, torso chilled to paralyzation. But my right shoulder is warm. The image of Annie asleep against my shoulder warms me, dispersing the cold fear. My heart rate slows, and mind clears.

I'm in the Victor's House after watching my game's screening. No nightmares apparently, but discombobulation upon awakening. Better than the nightmares still. What's a few seconds of fear compared to what feels like hours of being thrown back into the past with the dead tributes I killed? I'll take the confusion over the nightmares.

But the confusion must be rather extensive because I give a start when I glance at my window. Through the glass, I swear I saw a flash of golden and those blue. It's impossible. But I'm sure I saw it. Annie's already awake so I jump from the couch and run out my front door in an attempt to chase what has to be a non-existent phantom. Am I chasing ghosts? I turn the corner of my house and leap around.

Emptiness. My window from the outside. Faint moonlight illuminating the ground. That's all.

My breath is coming is short gasps. I was so sure. I could have swore. I was certain. A figment of my imagination. Nothing more.

Still doubtful, I slowly turn the corner of my house again and give a startled yell when I walk into Annie. I catch my breath. "Sorry, I didn't see you there."

She chuckles and nods her head. "C'mon."

"Where are we going?" I ask following her down the street leading out of the Victors' Village.

Annie's dark hair flutters in the wind falling behind her shoulders exposing the nape of her neck. "To the ocean."

"Why?"

"If there's any ghosts, I'm sure that's where they'd go."

Is it possible? "Did you see her too?"

"No." Annie replies as if I'm not crazy. Maybe she's crazy after all. Too. "But I know you think you did. And if you end up talking with her, you won't seem like you've lost it because no one will be there to see you talking to air. Or chasing people others can't see."

"You would be there." I comment.

Annie laughs and faces me. Her beautiful big green eyes dance in the moonlight on top of a dazzling smile. "True, but I wouldn't tell a soul. I get it."

I stare at her in amazement, and my fingers itch to take her hand in mine. Who is this girl? Who talks of ghosts and one sided conversations as if it's the most normal thing in the world. Who understands the crazy stirring within my broken mind. Who was able to sit through a few days of little awareness while I spaced out into my own zone. Who is she? Who gets it. She gets it?

Cautiously I ask, "You get it? Does that mean you see ghosts?"

Annie's breath catches in her throat, and I think I hear her mutter, "Didn't filter." But she keeps walking and nonchalantly shrugs. "Not exactly."

"Which means?" I ask.

"Which means," she repeats and by her tone I know she doesn't want to talk about it, yet she admits, "I'm not sure like you."

"Is it common?"

Annie shrugs. "It depends."

"On what?"

"I don't know." She sincerely says. "It just depends." I don't know what to say to this so I look up at the sliver of moon. Always changing. Melting away and rebuilding. It's constantly changing. Never sticking to one thing. I'm no different I suppose. "You loved her." Annie breaks through my criticism of the moon.

I'm about to say 'what?', but I let it process for a second. You loved her. Emilia? There's no other girl. "I did. She was a good friend."

"You were both willing to die for each other." Annie states.

"We were." I agree, realizing for the first time that that's exactly what Emilia and I had. She didn't want me to give up, I wanted her to kill me, and then she asked me to let her go so I could win.

Annie looks around us at the quiet homes and closed shops. The landmarks which make Four, Four. "I'm sorry she didn't get to come back."

I look at the stores and wonder which ones were Emilia's favorite. "I am too."

"But I'm also glad you're here."

"I am too." I say surprisingly meaning it. In what context am I talking about? It's hard to say. I'm glad I'm here with Annie, yes. Am I glad I'm here because I survived the games, I don't know. Without the latter the former would be impossible, but in reference to the latter it also had a terrible price which I can't say if you ever really recover from. But Emilia wanted me to live. Isn't she the one who showed me the worth life can have? Have I been doing nothing but squandering away the lesson?

"Everything hard takes time to get better from Finnick." Annie lightly says. "No one has the right to expect anything from you. Not even you."

Having said that, Annie skips out of the last neighborhood, and then dashes off towards the ocean. I jog after her and come to a halt on dry sand. The feeling of a thousand souls seems to lurk over the shore and I suddenly feel like we're not alone. On this night, the ocean does appear haunted. Dark, partially lit, the waves continuously roaring, an illusion of lifelessness. During the Dark Days, people were known to be lost at sea. Their bodies never found. If I died, I'm certain my soul would be drawn to the forever stretching span of water as well.

As if I'll disturb some unknown peace, I quietly whisper. "It doesn't always feel this way. I've come to the ocean at night before."

Annie takes a seat in the sand and pulls her legs to her chest. "It does on the rare occasion. Whenever the air tells me the shore will feel this way at night, I come here to see."

"To see?"

"To see if nothing happens. Or if I'm crazy."

"If you're crazy then so am I. It doesn't feel empty."

Annie smiles at my comment. "We can be crazy together here. And if it turns out we're not, all the better."

Together. I like the way it sounds. Too bad she's too good for me. But we can be together the way Emilia and I were without the physical aspect. Anything more would be too much to hope for. I can accept that. I don't deserve her. Any form of together will be enough. I'll be happy. I will be okay. Just as Emilia predicted nearly five years ago. I'm glad to be here. To have lived to see the day I've truly become okay. I'm glad.

I take a seat next to Annie and stretch my legs. "So now we wait?"

"Now we wait." Annie confirms.

We wait together. Sitting on the sand in comfortable silence. Eyes staring straight ahead at the constant rolling of waves which greet the shore. No pressure to create conversation. No worries that the other person is bored. It's simply just letting things be without the constant go of life. A moment which seems to have the potential to stretch out before us endlessly with no concerns for the future. Side by side, we wait together.

* * *

_Annie POV_

My arms stretch above my head so pleasantly that I can't resist letting out a groan of pleasure, and the pillow and blanket feel amazing since I'm bundled up in a cocoon. A warm feeling washes over me, leftover from some distant memory hidden beneath my groggy awareness. Things have changed. Between...Finnick and I. Yes, that's correct. Is that where this warmth is coming from? Finnick is the cause? Pillow and blanket? That's not on the ocean's shore.

I open my eyes and see that I am lying down on Kenin's couch. Definitely not where I fell asleep this morning. Sunlight pours in through the living room window flooding the house. When did I return here? Where's Finnick? I sit up and put my feet on the ground. As I stand up my foot brushes something on the floor.

Absentmindedly I reach down and grab the object I almost stepped on. It's smooth and small. A weird cylinder shape which elongates to a sharp point at the end. This doesn't feel like anything Kenin owns. I look at my palm and my chest tightens. Resting in my palm is a beautiful white shell speckled with brown square spots in a uniform pattern. This could only be from one person. Not only did Finnick carry me home and tuck me into sleep, he went diving for a shell before he did all of that. Extraordinary. I've lost a bit of control over how I feel.

"When did you get back?" a soft voice asks from the side.

Startled, I look to the entrance and see Yurol. I wrap my fingers around the shell, a part of me wondering if Yurol saw the gift I'm hiding. It's not that I don't love and trust her. It's not that I don't want to tell her. I want to dance and scream. But we've all seen Finnick's behavior in public. And though she doesn't say it, I know she questions why I go over to his house. Why I'm spending time with him. She's concerned that things are going too far. She just doesn't understand. Right? Finnick is sincere with me, isn't he?

I stand up and smile. "This morning."

"You were with Finnick." she doesn't mean it, but I can hear a hint of disapproval.

"I was." I say. She's only looking out for me. I can't get mad about that. "Thank you. For covering my shifts. I know you don't understand, but you did it anyway."

"It's not that I-" Yurol can't find the words. She tucks some hair behind my ear and sighs, "I just want you to be careful, okay? That's all. I trust your judgment."

This is why we're family. I kiss her cheek, and tell her. "I will be. You know me." I head to the front door, "I'll be right back."

Yurol's eyes say, _You were just with him, Annie_. But she simply nods and heads back upstairs to dress for work. It'll be quick. I need to get dressed too. So I jog over to Finnick's and knock on the door. Several seconds pass before I knock again. And then again. Maybe he's at Mags. Well, I'll see him at dinner tonight. He always walks me home.

* * *

_Finnick POV_

Beside me, Kenin is staring out the train's window. If I could do anything to save him from this fate, I would. But I've maxed out the returns I receive for my prostitution services. When the Capitol has leverage against you, your returns are even less. There's nothing I can do for Kenin. He knows the deal. He has to accept being sold securing the safety of his family, or he can refuse prostitution and his family will suffer terrible accidents or get reaped.

Like Cashmere. I met her when I mentored my first game at fifteen. She was a tribute and immediately our strange chemistry started from there. We would eye each other out, secretly hook up in every place we could, and didn't so much as say goodbye when she left for the arena. After she won, she was informed a few months later at an undisclosed meeting by Snow that upon turning sixteen, she was expected to be sold as I was.

Her response was a sneer of, "You may be able to get golden boy to willingly prostitute as a whore, but I refuse to do the same."

I remember Snow licking his cracked puffy lips and giving Cashmere a sinister smile which should have been a warning for her to quickly refute her statement. "Alright. If that's what your mind's set on. I cannot make _you_ do anything."

"Correct." Cashmere triumphantly harrumphed. Disgusted with the both of us, she left the table and went back into train compartment.

"Not so fast Mr. Odair." Snow said to me as I got up to excuse myself. I sat back down waiting for him to continue. "Clearly our dear friend Cashmere believes she has a choice in the matter. Which she does of course. I do not lie. As I said, I cannot make her do anything." he looked past me, out the train's window. "However, you are quite aware of a small fact which separates you from the rest. Except for Mags and Haymitch who have also outlived all their loved ones. I do not want you speaking with Cashmere about this tiny fact. She will learn soon enough about what happens when a victor, who has much to lose, refuses the Capitol."

"I won't say anything." I'd told him. Even now I can't say if I would have warned Cashmere. She wasn't any of my concern, and her arrogance blinded her to the very prominent danger she was putting all her loved ones in. But maybe I would have at least said something to know that I tried. But Snow's plan stopped me from considering it in depth.

"Very good Mr. Odair." Snow said returning his gaze to me. "I know I can't stop you from telling Cashmere if you really wanted to because we admittedly do not have any leverage against you, and you could also threaten to refuse your services. If for some reason you wished to ever make such a bold refusal, let me remind you once and never again, that the Capitol has long been without this recent proposition created by your victory. While your services are greatly desired, they are not necessary. In the end, the deal is always mine. The negotiations are just a bonus for your cooperation."

Snow waited for my response. But I'd understood this long before he'd brought it up. He didn't have to agree to what I wanted for my services, he could have simply refused and went without my prostitution. Snow was and is smart though. My services would greatly please his citizens, and the tributes didn't matter to him, only the game. He didn't care who won or how someone won; only that each district hoped theirs would be victor. Four receiving minor special treatments paid off in the long course of business. The little power he gave to me was outweighed by pros over cons. But I'd always known it was not my place to make demands. I was a district slave. Nothing more in Snow's eyes. A person simply to be profited from.

I'd stood up knowing he wouldn't stop me. "I'll never use that refusal for power. You gave me what I wanted and it's more than what anyone else gets. I know that."

"Goodbye then Mr. Odair. Glad we're on the same page. I expect to see you a few times in the Capitol before Cashmere's Victory Tour."

Gloss was reaped for the 67th Hunger Games; it was no coincident. Cashmere couldn't negotiate for his life. She'd lost any chance for receiving special treatment. Snow had the rest of Cashmere's family to go after, so she had to agree to prostitution to ensure their safety. But as punishment for her initial refusal, Snow had told her, the only way Gloss would make it out alive was if he won by his own talent. Which he did. And at eighteen he was forced into prostitution too.

Now all our fates will befall Kenin. He sits back in his seat and stares ahead. "Is it bad?" he asks. "Knowing that you're being sold into prostitution?"

I think about it. "It depends on the person. For those of us who have nothing to lose, it's not so bad. But for the rest, I think it's much harder."

"I slept with Staryl for my survival. I'll be doing this to save my family. It's a better reason than the one I had in the games." Kenin says. "Maybe it won't be so bad."

"I hope it isn't for you. It'll make things easier to deal with."

Kenin rubs his temple the way someone who is many decades older would. "I never thought I'd be retuning to the Capitol." He keeps his head in his hands. "It never ends."

I sadly agree. "No it doesn't."

* * *

_Annie POV_

I'm trying to fight down the rising disappointment and have faith. He'll come. He always comes. Doesn't he? Finnick has been here every night since Kenin made him promise to walk me home. And that was—that was almost two months ago! Has that much time really passed? So what's changed now? His game's screening? No, it can't be that. I don't believe it.

My last customers leave, and I clean the table. With the dishes gathered in my arms, I look around expecting Finnick to appear any moment. Nothing happens. So I head into the back and attempt to ignore Joln's curious but mocking eyes. He's not the only one though who is wondering where Finnick is. Everyone is glancing at me as I put the dishes in the sink one by one.

Finally I turn around and announce. "I don't know where he is okay? I'm not sure why you guys think I would know."

"Well," Binsen begins, "you guys are friends aren't you?"

I stare at the stack of dirty dishes to the side. Each plate is covered in something different. The one on the very top has brown sauce and green seaweed stuck near the sides from when the person tried to scoop up the remaining food. Little crumbs are on the edges of the plate beneath. Fish bones and scales peek out from beneath the third plate. I'm glad I don't technically have to do the dishes. It would mean I have to stick around. Normally I do help. But I'm not in the mood.

"See you tomorrow." Is all I say.

However, before I get to leave, Yurol is running through the back door saying her goodbyes too. "I'm done. See you in the morning." She knows I want to be alone, but I've yet to see the day when Yurol attends to that wish. We walk out The Shack together, heading back to the Victors' Village. A minute passes and then, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." I quietly say.

Yurol nods taking my hand, and for the briefest moment I feel the urge to pull my hand away. I love her and Kenin and Joa too. I love them all very much. And it's never too much for me to be there for them. But when they want to be here for me, I still have the urge to push them away. It's hard to care so deeply for them because it consumes me, and I'm terrified all the time. After what happened with my family and the rest of the Denfezes, you learn to fear loss. But I'm better, and I love them. So I let Yurol hold my hand.

At the house, she sees I want to go over to Finnick's, so she lets my hand go. "I'll be taking a shower."

"See you inside." I tell her. Yurol unlocks the door and closes it behind her.

Finnick must be at his house. Right? I knock and wait. Knock and wait. Nothing.

Is he avoiding me?

* * *

_Finnick POV_

"Glenda." I slowly breathe letting the bartender's name roll off my tongue. I shake my glass letting the ice cubes swirl around before taking a long drink. The clear spirit tastes of marshmallows. "How did you end up here?"

Glenda who has shiny golden brown skin leans forward exposing a better view of her artificially amplified bodacious bosoms. My eyes are immediately drawn to Glenda's prominent cleavage when she twirls her curled ink-black hair with a finger. Long fake nails studded with jewels flash in the light overhead. I'm intrigued with Glenda very much, unlike the other Capitol people, because she's the most normal looking Capitol citizen I've met. There are many fake qualities about her, but she hasn't undergone any major alterations. The dark brown of her eyes are real, skin color acceptable, hair dyed a normal color, nails removable at will, teeth whitened, fair amount of smoldering makeup. All superficial changes. Also, her outfit isn't ridiculous. A short cut black top with tiny white shorts. Hugging and emphasizing every curve.

The club around us is blaring with a fast beat that has a heavy bass which shakes the speakers placed at ten feet intervals covering every angle of the place. It's an assortment of strange looking people and outfits doing awkward dance moves in multicolored lights, various staff members going around with trays of drinks or taking orders, and the paparazzi of cameramen and fans. I arrived an hour ago in the morning, and as soon I came into the only club I know to be open twenty-four-seven, it was suddenly packed.

My first client is at this party tonight, so I'm allowed to do what I want for now and take some of the edge off. Glenda does a few tricks with the bottle of clear spirits and then tips the spout into my cup filling it halfway. To answer my question, she leans on her hands and slightly sways her body from side to side. "Got bored doing the proper work. I wanted to see the other side of the Capitol."

I reach for my glass when a pearl white hand grabs it before I can, and I watch my drink tipped in between light pink lips. Cashmere swallows the last of my drink, and plants a kiss on my lips for everyone to see including the cameramen and Glenda who I've been flirting with for the past few minutes. When she pulls away, she roughly sits down into the seat next to me making her blonde curls bounce up and down. "Missed me dear Finny?" she tauntingly smiles through the flash of cameras.

"Not in the least." I softly growl, taking my glass from her hand and putting it in front of Glenda to refill. "Go away."

"Not a chance." Cashmere snorts. "This is the only place serving where I can get _obnoxiously_ drunk." As if to make a point, she turns to Glenda and loudly snaps. "Get me a big glass of Klomir."

Glenda rolls her eyes and walks to the end of the shelves behind her where the purple Klomir is. I finish my drink in a few gulps and push it forward for Glenda to refill again when she gets back. "Don't you have someone else to bother?"

In the rare moments, Cashmere reveals her feelings in simple statements. "Gloss is with a client."

I see the sadness in those green eyes framed by eyeliner and thick long curling lashes which stand out against the fierce application of eyeshadow on voluptuous eyelids. She looks strong, beautiful, and daunting, but I know she's hating every moment of being here in the Capitol while I can at least enjoy myself. Glenda returns with Cashmere's Klomir and refills my glass. I can feel Glenda's eyes on me expectantly waiting to continue where we left off, but Cashmere is also waiting for my response. No matter what, the districts as much as possible, need to stick together.

Without looking at Glenda, I grab my glass and raise it. "To our victory."

Cashmere gives a bitter smile and raises her glass, speaking with the same irony of us not actually celebrating our victory. Quite the opposite. "To our _wonderful_ victory."

Our glasses _clink_, and we take one more step towards getting drunk.

* * *

"I hate you Finnick Odair." Cashmere gasps as I push her back up the wall one final time.

I hold her up for several seconds to catch my breath. "Yet you keep coming back for more."

She leans forward resting her head on my shoulder. "Yes I do."

We're both sweating out the vast amount of spirits we just consumed, and her flesh feels sticky against mine. I slowly lower Cashmere on to her dangerously tall stilettos. We locked the male bathroom over an hour ago, and we both know there will be a crowd of paparazzi waiting for us to emerge. This is such a common sight. Cashmere and I coming out of some public area. Long ago we stopped rearranging whatever was askew. The Capitol expects us to have at least one suggestive photo with every visit. They expect me to have multiple indicative photos throughout each stay.

Neither of us really notice the flash of cameras when we walk out together. I take a seat at the bar again. "You leaving?"

"Gloss should be done with his client." Cashmere says. "So yeah, I am." But not before she grabs my glass a second time and downs my drink; after which she hands me the empty glass so I can hear the ice cubes _clank_ against each other. "See you later Finny."

"Don't count on it." I mumble as Cashmere a bit unsteadily walks out the club where a few cameramen leave to follow her. "Another one." I say spinning around in the seat.

Glenda has an annoyed look her face. "You are just as everyone says you are."

I shrug and reach for my half filled glass. I'm too tired to care. "Don't know why you girls would think I'd be anything else. You all watch the news."

"You seemed different with me." she says actually hurt.

"I said a few sentences to you. That's all." I laugh and finish my drink. I'm drunk and being with Cashmere has put me in a foul mood. "Everyone thinks they're different. That's what makes it so easy."

A long angry 'Ohh' with a disgusted scoff at the end is Glenda's reply and she storms out from behind the bar. _Great, my bartender left._ I reach over the bar and grab the bottle, pouring myself a full glass of spirits. It doesn't matter how drunk I get because an hour before my client, I'll be given a pill which will flush out any of the spirit's effects. Vomiting, hangovers, black outs, but that also means just simply being drunk or buzzed. We're only given these pills before a client. Never to erase the consequences of a hard night of partying where we want to puke out our insides the next day.

Someone bumps me as they take a seat next to me, and I assume it's Cashmere. "Already back for some mo—Kenin? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same." Kenin replies.

"I'm drinking." I say holding up my glass.

He looks annoyed. "That's not all you've been up to."

Am I to get annoyed looks from everyone for having sex with Cashmere? I don't have to glance behind me to see the disappointed looks from the various Capitol women who've been hoping I would ask one of them to my suite. "That's my business."

"No," he retorts, "you're business is what we came here for. You screwing Cashmere is you being a pig. You guys are all over the screens."

"Where exactly is this hostility coming from?" I ask.

Kenin grabs a glass from behind the bar and pours himself a drink from the bottle in front of me. "All I'm saying is if you're going to screw the girls here for pleasure, don't involve Annie. I don't care if you saved my life. She comes first."

I wrestle the glass from his hand when he lifts it to his lips. "I'm not playing Annie. We're not having sex."

"Don't say that." the annoyance changes into disgust. "I don't want to have that image in my head. She's like my sister." Kenin's hard blue eyes soften. "But you like her."

"I do." I tell Kenin with a pause—by finishing his drink since mines is gone—because it's the first time I admitted it out loud in that context, but then I add. "She's very kind."

Kenin sees through this and pushes his shaggy hair from his face. "I see the way you look at her Finnick." he grabs the bottle and fills both our glasses. "You like her."

Maybe I'm too drunk, or too tired from our six hour train ride to deny this. I finally give in to what I've been feeling for awhile. "Don't say anything alright. I don't want to complicate things between us. We get along well and I'd hate to have things change."

"You're an idiot Finnick." Kenin comments sipping his drink before I can stop him. "I don't see how you get so many girls."

"Now why would you say that?" I ask in mock hurt while taking the glass from his hand and pushing it over the bar where it _shatters_. "That's offensive and rude."

Kenin is looking over the counter in disbelief because I actually did that and he has a faint expression of mourning his drink. "Because how could you get so many girls and be so blind?"

"Blind to what?"

He leans against the counter having given up on attempting to sneak drinks. "Let me ask you this first. If you like Annie, why do you still sleep around? It seems a bit counter intuitive to your goal."

I give him a look for thinking I would disrespect Annie that way. "I have no goal with Annie, Kenin. I don't have an agenda."

"But you want to be with her. That would be your goal." he explains.

It's a ridiculous "goal". Annie wouldn't give me the time of day like that. She knows too much about how I am. I laugh and shake my head. "You think Annie would actually be interested after knowing who I am and what I've done?"

Now Kenin gives me a look. "Do you really think so lowly of yourself?"

I shrug. "What I think doesn't matter. It doesn't change the facts."

Kenin stands up to leave. "Then you haven't truly seen the way she looks at you."

"What do you mean?" I call out as Kenin just walks away. "Wait, Kenin! How does she look at me?"

* * *

_Annie POV_

"Seems like Finnick got bored." Joln knowingly smirks.

My shoulders tense against my will at this uncalled for remark. It shouldn't bother me because Finnick and I aren't anything, but I thought—i thought things were different. Of course every girl who meets Finnick thinks this, but I mean, he was different with me. I know he was. Yet, he's completely stopped making an effort to—to do whatever it was that he was doing. Maybe, after all, Finnick saw my mind change after that whole stupid shell thing, and he saw my willingness to go over his house during his game's screening. He needed me there for comfort, I saw him cry, and now because of all of that he's completely keeping his distance.

What Joln said does sound correct. I'm no longer of any interest to Finnick. Anyways, it's for the best. Nothing good could have come from—us. Us. That sounds strange. It's for the best. At least that's what I've been telling myself every hour. I face Joln with my head held high. "Say what you really want to Joln."

"Alright." he replies throwing the last scraps of fish into a bucket and leaning against a table. "But I don't want to hurt your feelings."

I scoff. "That is exactly your intention. But I want to hear what you have to say."

Glad I'm giving him the go to speak his mind, Joln takes the only opportunity he will probably ever get. Binsen and Lance discreetly leave as Joln tells me what he wants. "You seem surprised Finnick has stopped coming by and _walking you home_. But what did you expect Annie? That because you were hard to get, he would stay longer?"

"I wasn't trying to play hard to get Joln. Neither of us were interested when he began coming by."

"The fact that you say _were_ lets me know that you were stupid enough to fall for him. Do you really think Finnick feels the same way for you?"

A flash of heat washes over me and I feel myself growing angry because as much as I hate to admit this, what Joln said holds much truth. I was stupid enough to begin having feelings, I was stupid enough to believe things were different between Finnick and I, and I was stupid enough to wonder if I hadn't been alone in feeling the change. I'm also angry because it's so weird to be talking about another guy with Joln after our history together, and because this other guy has clearly played me like a damn fool in front of Joln. And, Joln is just gloating over my hurt. I think that is what's making me most angry.

I readily snap, "No, I don't believe he does. And I haven't fallen for him. I thought he was my friend. That's all."

"If Finnick was your _friend_," Joln sarcastically begins, "there was only one thing he was after." he's about to say something else, but then what Joln said in a moment of gloating dawns on him. Based off of his comment, there would also only be one reason why Finnick stopped coming by. Now I see genuine pain in Joln's eyes. "Did you sleep with someone so soon after our break up?"

"You haven't?" I laugh. It's not an answer but I know what it implies. I'm done with this hurtful conversation mainly because I know I'm hurting Joln but I can't stop myself. So I need to leave. I've turned to walk out the kitchen, but I can't resist adding. "What I do is my business Joln. You're no longer entitled to anything having to do with me."

I've walked several yards heading home when I hear The Shack's front door open and close with light footsteps running towards me. Yurol's voice calls out, "Annie, wait for me." I don't turn around but I stop walking. She appears at my side. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." I reply in a tone which says the opposite. So I add. "It's just tiring that Joln and I still fight when we're not even together."

She takes my arm. "I know. He'll eventually leave you alone when he moves on."

"I hope so."

Yurol waits a moment before asking the one thing on her mind. "You and Finnick didn't really have sex, did you?"

I sigh. "No, of course not. Joln always assumes there's something going on between us and no matter what I say he won't believe otherwise. Maybe now he'll leave it alone."

Tentatively, she asks. "Isn't there something going on between you guys now though?"

"It's been three days Yurol. Obviously he doesn't want to see me anymore." I'm unable to hide the hurt in my voice. Besides, it's Yurol. She deserves to know. "I thought, but I was wrong. You were right. I should have been more careful."

"I didn't want to be right." she softly says. "I really hoped the difference I noticed in him was real. But I wasn't sure either."

I lean my head against her shoulder and it bounces up and down with each step. "It's okay. I didn't get attached. Things ended before anything really happened."

But I did get attached. And I am disappointed. The hurt I feel aches with a dull throb in my chest despite how irrational it is. It's something I can't shake. We spent so much time together without me realizing just how much, and I got used to having him there. I began to want him there. I'd started to initiate contact. Now he's avoiding me. That's always going to have a certain sting to it.

At the house, I leave Yurol to go to Finnick's. She thinks I'm going to check again if he's there. But I'm not. I accept his rejection. I take the stupid white, brown-speckled shell out of my pocket and drop it on Finnick's porch. It bounces a few times before coming to a rest in front of his door. I should just leave it there and walk away. That's what I really should do. It would be the appropriate thing to do.

So I stomp on the shell once and then walk away.

* * *

_Finnick POV_

After five days in the Capitol, nearly two dozen clients later, Kenin refusing to discuss Annie further, multiple encounters with Cashmere and Heria, and countless bottles of spirits; I'm looking forward to heading home where I'll be able to see Annie. Maybe we can go out on my boat again, or we can do something different. Things get boring in Four if you fall into the same routine. Also, I want to talk with Yurol about throwing Kenin a surprise sixteenth birthday party.

I learned a few things in the Capitol during my stay. One: Kenin will be turning sixteen in a week which is why Snow wanted him to see the Capitol for this five day stay. I was able to talk with Snow and have him hold off on selling Kenin right away. This way Kenin can at least celebrate turning sixteen in Four before having to fulfill his obligation to the Capitol.

The second thing; an extremely scandalous secret if ever exposed. Cashmere and Gloss aren't brother and sister. They're lovers. I walked in on them when I randomly stopped by Cashmere's suite to see if she wanted to have a quick one before a party. When I saw them, I was mortified at what I thought to be an incestous relationship. Thinking back, it was pretty funny when Gloss fell over the couch and onto his back when he attempted to hide.

"It's not what you think." Cashmere had stammered. I was already pulling the door shut, thinking of a place I could go to and throw up. Then. "We're not related!"

I'd froze, thought better of it, but then opened the door again. Cashmere hadn't bothered to cover up because I know her body very well, but Gloss had a bit more shame. He had a blanket drawn across his lower body. I closed and locked the door. "What do you mean you're not related?"

"After I refused to prostitute, Snow had Gloss reaped. Do you think my sponsors would have helped him if they'd known he was with me? But I had to convince them to sponsor him." Cashmere sighs. "I had to make sure Gloss would get good sponsors. So I pretended he was my brother. With that lie, it would seem reasonable that I was so bent on the sponsors sending him exuberant amounts of money. Mentors don't care about their tributes that much unless there's a personal connection. No one would have believed we were just friends."

"Snow doesn't care?" It seemed unlikely he wouldn't, but this lie has been going on for years. And Snow was the one who had Gloss reaped.

Cashmere sat down on the back of the couch. "No. You're the only person outside of Two aside from Snow who knows about this now."

Gloss, who usually spoke in a deep gruff voice, quietly asked. "Please don't say anything to anyone. One of the reasons Snow lets us continue this lie is our discretion."

I'd nodded seeing them with new eyes. They were lovers caught in the trap of Snow's prostitution because they loved each other. That was the main leverage Snow had against them. Their love. This brought up a few questions. "Why do you both sleep around outside of our clients if you're supposed to be together? Wouldn't you just sleep with your clients and not screw anyone else?"

"Modesty isn't his strong suit, is it?" Gloss dryly commented to Cashmere.

"No it isn't." Cashmere smiled at him. She'd turned back to me and this is when I learned the last thing. "Snow wouldn't have talked to you about it because you were already whoring around in the Capitol from the moment you arrived in the train, but Gloss and I weren't like that. We both had to begin prostituting at the same time, and Snow said our other _duty_ was to also stir up news in the Capitol. Be seen at clubs, hotels, with citizens or other victors. There's more than one form of sexual intrigue in the Capitol."

I'd thought back to her game. "You had sex with me when you were a tribute."

For the first time ever, I'd made Cashmere blush in shame. She looked at Gloss and took his hand—admittedly it was still a bit weird because for almost three years I'd believed they were brother and sister. "When I was reaped, there was a chance I would die so it seemed like a good idea. I met Gloss after my victory."

Three things to take away from this trip. Kenin had a week before turning sixteen. Less than two weeks before he would be sold. Gloss and Cashmere weren't brother and sister. They were lovers fighting to stay together and to keep the other alive. And, we were expected to sleep around in the Capitol outside of our client list. Even if I wanted to stop having sex for pleasure, I wasn't allowed to. Considering everything I'd learned, it seemed like a good idea to find Annie, and spend time with one of the few people I actually like as a person.

Imagine my surprise when I finally got home and found the shell I'd given to her smashed to pieces in front of my door. Kenin was behind me and asked, "What's that?"

"Nothing." I'd answered, ushering him in. "I'll be right back."

So now I'm here knocking on Kenin's door hoping Yurol will answer. It opens and Yurol is looking at me with distaste. "What do _you_ want?"

The Denfezes have an issue with hostility so I've noticed. But maybe Yurol and Annie have been watching the screens. "Look, I know it looks bad. But there are things about the Capitol which are different. Give me a chance to talk with Annie."

"You were in the Capitol?" Yurol asks, the disgust falling away.

"Yeah, uh," maybe she hadn't watched the screens, "Kenin and I had business there. Victors' stuff."

Yurol puts a hand to her face and sighs. "I was so wrong." she says to herself. "Even she believed it." Yurol removes her hand and looks apologetic. "Annie is probably sitting on these rocks by the shore. She goes there when she thinks."

"Not the cliffs?" I ask for confirmation.

"You know about the cliffs?" Yurol asks without meaning to. "But yeah, she should be on the shore. The rocks are to the right. On the edge."

"Thanks." I tell her and begin walking away. "I owe you one."

"No you don't Finnick." Yurol says shaking her head. "If anything I owe you one."

I'm not sure what this means, but I leave the Victors' Village and head towards the shore.

* * *

soo, i know it must be like, annie and finnick have only just admitted to liking each other after over 100,000 words, but! i promise more will be happening with them in the chapters to come. all this build up was for a purpose =] thank you for reading. i really enjoy reading the reviews and writing this story


	15. Chapter 15: Annie's Secret

**Alright! So I know I seem to have gone MIA, but! I was on Oahu for the past 4 days without internet, so here's Chapter 15 and I've already started 16 =] Thank you, thank you to all my loyal fans! I appreciate the reviews, feedback, and everything you guys have to say to me. Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen: Annie's Secret**

_Annie POV_

_Thunk. Thunk. Thunk._

The waves are too choppy for me to skip the stones I've been throwing for the past hour. But still, I try.

_Thunk. Thunk. _"Hey." a voice, which makes my heart skip, calls out.

I turn and see Finnick jogging towards me on the shore. He's barefoot, wearing black pants rolled up past his thick calves, and an unbuttoned white shirt. His unruly bronze hair shines in the sunlight flopping with each step. Instead of taking in the sight of Finnick though, I count the footprints he's left behind. But it's kind of hard when he keeps making new ones throwing off my count.

I still haven't said anything when he steps onto the rocks and takes a seat next to me. Finnick looks at me curiously, strands of hair falling in his eyes. "What are you doing?"

The green of his eyes are incredibly bright; amplified by the sunlight and ocean's reflection. They shimmer like the sea when it looks like glass. Captivating and mesmerizing. No wonder so many girls are unable to withstand him. I refuse to be so stupid. Yet, I continue staring into his eyes.

He blinks once. "Annie?"

I don't say anything.

"Whatever you saw on the screens of me, it's not—" he begins.

"Do you really think I have nothing better to do with my time than watch you on the screens?" I cut him off annoyed that he thinks I stalk him the way other girls do. I don't care about watching whatever the Capitol broadcasts about him. I've never watched it before, I wouldn't start now. "You're not that important Finnick."

Finnick's mouth opens in surprise, his eyes growing angry. "That's not what I meant." he says through gritted teeth. "Besides, shouldn't I be the one who's upset since you destroyed the shell I gave you, _and_ you left it on my porch?"

"You?" I spat standing up. "You're the one who should be upset? Not everything is about you!" I begin to storm off since he's disturbed my peace.

I think he won't follow until several seconds later I hear his footsteps running across the stone and come onto the sand. In seconds, Finnick is in front of me blocking my way. "Can you tell me what you're upset about then?" he asks in a self-controlled tone.

I attempt to go to my left but he steps that way too. I step to my right and he goes that way. I give him an annoyed look and he does the same. "Stop mimicking everything I do."

"Stop—" Finnick says trying to imitate my sentence, but he fails to think of something. "Stop...will you just stop and tell me what's wrong?"

"You shouldn't have to ask. If you have to ask, it shows how seriously twisted your perspective is."

This hurts him, and he takes a step back. "Why are you being this way?"

I disdainfully laugh. "Oh, so you think I'll just fall at your feet being so grateful that Finnick Odair has finally decided to talk to me again after ignoring me for five days?"

"Ignoring you?" Finnick questions in disbelief. "Annie, I've been in the Capitol for the past five days on business with Kenin. I thought he'd told you."

The words I have on the tip of my tongue, to tell Finnick off, come to a halt and my mind goes blank. He wasn't ignoring me. He was in the Capitol. I just wrongfully accused him and treated him like he was nothing. And he still kept trying to figure out what was wrong. Oh, poor Finnick.

"Kenin didn't say anything about you guys leaving for the Capitol." I dumbly say.

The anger and hurt in Finnick's eyes turns to good humor. "Well, I see that you must have missed me quite a bit if you became this upset." I burst into tears and Finnick quickly says, "I was just kidding Annie. I didn't mean to tease you."

But then I'm laughing and wiping away my fake tears. "And you, Finnick, must be rather gullible if you believed I would cry over a harmless joke."

"Don't do that." he says flabbergasted. "I don't ever want to see you cry because of me."

We begin laughing and I take a seat on the sand and wait for Finnick to do the same. I face him so I can own up to my faults. "I'm sorry I was so rude." Self consciously I play with the sand. "I didn't realize you were in the Capitol on business. I thought you were avoiding me because of your game's screening."

Finnick playfully nudges me with his arm. "Don't be sorry. It was a miscommunication. I didn't realize you thought I ditched you." his eyes hold mine with absolute sincerity. "I would never avoid you because of my games. If anything it shows me what a good friend you are for sticking around."

Good friend. Well, it's better than what I thought we were for the past few days. Granted he may not have feelings, he still considers me a friend. A good one at that. I dig my toes into the sand feeling the grainy rocks between each crevice. "How was the Capitol?"

"Informative." Finnick casually says. "I learned Kenin turns sixteen in a week."

"He does." I say a bit nostalgically. "He's getting so old."

Finnick leans back on his hands. "I want to throw him a surprise party. Do you think he would hate that?"

"Before his games I would have said no way. But now..." I trail off and think. "He may not want to be around a lot of people. He hasn't seen any of his friends since he's been back."

"Still?" Finnick asks surprised. "Well that settles it. He can't become a recluse. I'm throwing him a party."

"Where would you even throw it? Your house? You can't at his. Yurol wouldn't allow it."

There's mock horror on Finnick's face, but he seriously says. "Definitely not at my house. I don't need random girls sneaking in and never leaving." It sounds totally conceited, but it's also a logical reason. He really is that popular. Finnick continues, "And understandably Yurol won't want it there. I wonder if I could rent The Shack."

"The Shack?" I repeat unable to hide my alarm.

"I would be nice to Joln if that's what you're worried about. I'm not too keen on being slapped again." Finnick teases. "But why not? It's big enough, in the center of town, lots of food and drinks. And," he leans over and whispers in my ear, "you guys have my purple drink."

I laugh and push him away. "So _that's_ your agenda."

He smiles. "Perhaps."

I push my toes deeper into the sand and look at the horizon. "I think it's a good idea actually. Kenin needs to rejoin the world. It's been almost three and a half months since he's returned. Sometimes people need a little push."

Finnick takes a string out from his pocket and ties a knot on one end while he talks. "He's doing much better I'm sure you've noticed. It's a good sign. Kenin's lucky to have had you there for him from the beginning. Most don't."

He plucks a tiny shell from the sand when I ask. "Did you not?"

Finnick takes a needle from his pocket and pokes a hole in the tiny white shell. "I had Mags."

"What about friends or..." I can't think of anyone else; he said his family was dead.

His shoulders shrug and he picks up a circular pink shell. "Didn't have friends. Emilia died in the arena and I wasn't good at building meaningful relationships."

I know what Finnick means and I figure bluntness is best between us. "None of the girls you slept with wanted to be there for you?"

"I didn't say that." he says kindly. "They weren't my friends though. Why would I want them there?"

"Are you a secret recluse?" I ask.

The needle which Finnick is pressing against a shiny-brown-cone shell stops moving. Very slightly, his fist clenches and he sighs. "Maybe. It's hard to say." he returns to pressing the needle against the shell and it punctures the thin barrier. "I do a lot of different things in Four but I don't get involved with the people. Well, for the most part. Unless it involves a bed and a one time meeting."

I see other people on the sand, and several girls are staring at us. "Have you slept with any of them?"

He turns his attention away from another white shell to look at the girls standing near the pathway to the shore. "All of them."

"None of them were worth your time?"

"It's not about them being worth my time or not," he says trying to explain, "but they only see my looks and there's no further reason for them wanting to be with me. They assume I'm a great person because I'm attractive."

"With the way you act though, wouldn't that be a good thing for them to think?" I ask hoping he won't take it the wrong way.

Finnick doesn't. He simply says. "It doesn't matter what they think. I'm not interested. Everyone has thought the same thing about me so I've learned to just go with it. A few see through me though. And those are the people I like to spend my time with."

"Like Emilia."

"Yes like her." he's holding a beige shell. "I would have liked to spend time with her in Four."

I want to remind him of the people he has. Few, true. But they count. "And Kenin. I see the respect he has for you. And I know it means a lot."

"It does." Finnick grins. "Although he sure hated me when we first met."

"That sounds like him." I agree. Minul dying was never Finnick's fault, but Kenin didn't see it that way. I'm not sure what changed his attitude towards Finnick, but it became that way after he was crowned victor. "I'm glad his perspective has changed though. He wrongfully hated you."

As he does in so many situations, I've noticed, whenever someone wrongs Finnick, he simply brushes it off with a shrug. "It was understandable. I did mentor Minul."

I look at the string of shells which Finnick has created. "You and Mags did. It wasn't your fault." This brings me to my next person. "And you have Mags. I don't know much about her, but I know you two are close."

"Very." he agrees tying the ends of the string together. "If she was at least forty years younger, I'm sure we would have had many escapades together."

The image of Finnick and Mags, who is white haired and wrinkled, together is a bit disturbing. Just a tad. Because honestly, she looks so thin I think she would break. But I still laugh in disbelief Finnick actually said that. "Sometimes, the things you say."

"What?" Finnick laughs. "I'm just speaking the truth. Mags has a very playful spirit. She's a lot of fun to be around. You'll get to know her. I'll invite her to the party so you guys can meet."

I look up at the sky. "I'd like that very much. Kenin seems fond of her too."

Finnick taps my shoulder and I face him. "And I have you. Don't forget that." he holds up the string of shells and places it in my left palm. "It's important you know, you've helped me with a lot and I'll always remember it. Thank you."

I bring my palm closer to observe the bracelet Finnick's created. It's actually a thin transparent fishing line stringed through various shells with tiny holes created from the needle he was using. Three shiny white shells, two beige, four pink, three brown, and one pale green sea glass. Beautiful does not _begin_ to describe the bracelet. It's the very essence of Four, in my eyes, and Finnick has managed to capture it all in twelve stones, one sea glass, and fishing line.

He picks the bracelet up and holds it for me to put my hand through. Very gently I do, and when it tightens around my hand, he slowly rolls it onto my wrist. Finnick's fingers linger on my wrist; thumbs resting on my tendon. I don't think he means to, but he begins tracing my veins, slowly creeping up the first few inches of my left forearm. Can he feel my increasing heartbeat through the pulse near the tendon? It must be pounding like storm waves against the cliff's side. And then his thumbs stop at the faded yellow bruises.

Killing the tension.

Making me want to sigh in exasperation.

I take Finnick's hand in mine and stare into those green. Feeling his whole body freeze as the shock flows from him into me. Feeling the itch of his fingers from sustaining self-control. I feel everything he does as if we're bound by some powerful connection which runs deeper than flesh. And that's when I know. When I am sure. There's no going back. No running away. Only moving forward. Or breaking apart. Either way, whatever happens will greatly affect our lives with some noticeable shift.

Finnick lets out a breath he's been holding and traces my face with his eyes. Each glance feeling like a fingertip gently memorizing every inch. Somehow I know that with us, he'll never be the first to make a move. The pace of what we have will be entirely dependent on me. At times I'll have to coax him along into believing he deserves to be happy. Other times I'll have to reinforce the belief he is worthy of being wanted for more than just sex. That I want him despite his past which holds no meaning except for building him into the person I've grown to like unlike any want I've felt before. I want him, Finnick Odair, as he is.

And this terrifies me because I also somehow know this want will turn into a need, and when that happens, it'll never be a full life without him. The best thing to do would be to leave him before it became too late. Leave and never look back or wonder what could have been. Finnick's green eyes flash begging with a request he'll never say aloud; he's telling me _to go. Get out while you can. You don't deserve to settle for me. I'll understand if you leave._

_I see right through you Finnick. I see how lonely you are. I see the conflicting emotions of you wanting what you think is best for me but also clinging to the hope that I'll stay. _I reach up and press my hand to his cheek, running my thumb over his chin leaving stray grains of sand. _You're different with me, I also see that. I'm staying._

Now would be the perfect time for us to kiss. For me to just lean forward and press my lips to Finnick's. Feel the explosion of everything leading up to this. Have him gently rest a hand on my back while I reached up and clutched his bronze hair. We would confirm what has been shoved beneath layers of doubt and denial. It would be the perfect time. But it's not the right time.

Four of the girls are only yards away so I retract my hand. Though they've interrupted what should have been Finnick and I's moment, they can't take away what has been unveiled. That will always be mine, and so will the moment before them. Nothing lasts forever, but I can appreciate it while it lasted and long after it has passed.

Finnick glances over his shoulder at the girls and lets out an audible sigh. "Not now." he groans.

"Be nice." I teasingly say.

A brunette with blue eyes crosses her arms. "Hello Finnick."

"Hello." he says cooly. No name.

It isn't lost on the girl. "Can't remember my name, huh?"

"Nope." he says like it's a joke. "And just to get it out of the way, I don't remember any of your names."

All of them scoff in annoyance and I bite my lip to suppress a smile. Why are they surprised? He never settled down with any of them. What made them think they were so special? The fact they're upset with Finnick for not sticking around when they had nothing is just a bit silly. Just a bit.

"You think something is funny?" a blonde with brown eyes asks.

I look up at them wondering who they're talking to. Surely I didn't laugh aloud. But they're all looking at me, even Finnick who has an amused smile. So I ask, "Are you talking to me?"

"Who else would I be talking to?" the blonde angrily says.

"I don't know. Maybe you're crazy." I laugh.

Finnick lets out a loud cough, and his eyes twinkle with mischief.

"I am not." the blonde indignantly says stamping her foot in the sand.

"Who do you think you are?" another blonde asks.

I shrug. "Nobody. But you're being intrusive."

"Well we're not here to talk with _you_." a black haired girl says.

"Yeah, well, I agree." Finnick interjects. "We were having a conversation before you guys came."

"You think you can play everyone, don't you?" the brunette snaps.

Finnick shakes his head. "Nope. I'm not secretive about sleeping around. You're the ones who were more than willing."

Clearly offended, all the girls begin to stomp away. But the blonde with brown eyes throws in. "He's not going to change for you. And then you'll see how stupid you were."

"Okay." I tell her.

The blonde throws something at Finnick, and I see it's a bracelet with shells. "Take your bracelet back and give it to her. Add it to the one she already has."

Now Finnick looks guilty and he sighs turning his face away from me. I watch him throw the bracelet into the water. "I'm not playing you Annie."

"I know Finnick." I tell him, and I put my hand on his knee.

"Why are you so okay with everything?" he asks in a tortured voice.

"Because it wouldn't make sense for me to hold your past against you." Is my reply.

Finnick turns his face to me and I see how grateful he is. There's no faking the emotions depicted in his expression. So I scoot over and rest my head against his shoulder. Letting him know I'm still here. That I don't care about the tricks he used in the past on other girls. That I know whatever gesture he does with me is sincere and meaningful. That the beginning of our history is not a repeat of their history. I know this. So I stay.

* * *

Yurol folds a shirt and places it on the edge of her bed. "So you're talking with Finnick again?" she asks.

"Yes." I slowly say. "He was in the Capitol with Kenin when I thought he was ignoring me."

"He wants to throw Kenin a surprise party you know?"

I nod. "Finnick told me. I think it would be a good idea."

Surprisingly, Yurol agrees. "I do too." She pauses. "Maybe I was wrong about him. He seems like a nice guy."

I drop the pants I'm folding in mock shock. "Is that a hint of approval I hear?"

"Yes, yes." Yurol admits in surrender. "I didn't like him at first, but you were right. He acts one way in the public, but it's just an act. I think you've helped him."

"Helped who?" a voice asks from Yurol's bedroom door.

My heart is pounding when we both turn, but it's Kenin. Yurol happily says, "Kenin, you're home."

He steps into the room and smiles warmly. I may be simply sentimental, but he seems taller. "I thought we could have dinner tonight."

"Of course." Yurol excitedly says. It'll be the second dinner we've had as a family since his game. "I'll need to run by the market and get some food though."

"We can all go together." Kenin says. "Like we did before."

"Perfect." Yurol nearly squeals. "Let me change."

She nearly trips over her feet getting into the bathroom. When she closes the door, Kenin sits on the bed. "So who were you talking about?"

"Eavesdropper." I joke. "Yurol thinks I've helped Finnick."

"I would have to agree." Kenin says. "He seems happier."

Shyly, I tuck some hair behind my ear. "That's good." I take a seat next to him. "Kenin, what changed your mind about Finnick? You used to hate him, but then after your game you've been at his house for almost your entire return. Is it because he helped saved your life?"

"No." he quietly says. "It was before I entered the arena." Kenin looks like he's struggling to choose his words, but he finally says. "There are things I learned before my game. I can't talk about it, but just remember Annie, that things aren't what they seem. Things will look bad, but there's no way around it. Don't believe what you see on the screens. I know Finnick is sincere."

"What are you talking abo—"

"I'm ready!" Yurol announces swinging the door open. "Let's go. Wait, we need to get Joa."

"And Finnick." Kenin says. "I invited him over for dinner. If that's okay?"

Yurol is too happy to think it over. "Of course. I'll get Joa and you get Finnick. We'll meet outside."

Kenin gives me another knowing look before heading down the stairs. Yurol and I knock on Joa's door. She happily calls, "Joa, we're going out."

Several seconds later, Joa opens his door, eyes half open and hair flattened to the side of his face. "Where are you going?"

"To the market. Kenin is coming. He wants to eat dinner with us tonight."

Instantly Joa's eyes open and he rubs his head causing his hair to stick up. "Alright."

We all head downstairs, Yurol grabs the bag of money from behind some books in the shelf, and we go outside. My mouth forms into a smile at the sight of Finnick and Kenin waiting for us on the street. They're both casually standing around; Kenin, arms hanging loosely to his sides, Finnick, hands in pocket. There's a nervous smile on Finnick's face as he looks at us, but when our eyes meet his smile widens in comfort. This will be the first time Finnick has gone out with the entire Denfeze family.

Finnick and I take the back with the three Denfezes leading the front. His hand grazes mine but he doesn't take it. With the way things have changed between us, he won't be making anymore nonchalant physical contacts. I know that Finnick will always wait for me to make the first move. So I reach out and entwine my hand with his. Our fingers smoothly glide past each other fitting into the spaces meant for another person's hand. Very lightly Finnick gives my hand a squeeze while turning to me with a smile.

I meet his gaze. "Hey."

"Hey." he returns.

The presence of having Finnick next to me is incomparable to what I had with Joln. It's like Finnick actually blocks out the rest of the world and I'm only capable of being aware of my immediate surroundings. Nothing can get past him. I'll always be safe with him here. He isn't going anywhere and I wouldn't want him to. It's like, the world is suddenly so bright and alive. More beautiful than it already was. If that's possible. Every image is crisp and clear. The detail so amazing I wonder how I ever saw it with different eyes. It's this certain point in happiness where you marvel at how anyone could live without knowing it all the time.

Yeah, it's that incredible. I let out a laugh of awe.

Finnick curiously asks, "What?"

I open my mouth, but debate if I should hold back what I want to say. I've always done that. Sometimes things are too much. But with Finnick, I can breathe with fresh lungs fueling a current of energy I've never known. He is what I never found in anyone else. And so much more at that.

I honestly say without filtering my thoughts. "I'm glad you're here. It makes me really happy."

Finnick's ears faintly turn pink and he seems embarrassed in a good way—we both know the Denfezes can hear everything. But he doesn't lower his voice, in fact, he speaks louder. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

"Ugh, maybe I shouldn't have won if I'd known it meant I'd have to listen to you two now." Kenin mumbles in a serious voice.

I whack his head from behind. "I am going to embarrass you in front of your girlfriend."

Kenin turns around with a huge grin. "I'll never bring her around."

"You have a girlfriend?" Yurol fiercely questions in her over-protective sisterly voice.

"No!" Kenin exclaims. "When I have one, I won't bring her around."

"You won't be having one until you're much older." Yurol says.

Kenin scoffs. "You're going to be prohibit me from having a girlfriend when Annie has had boyfriends since she was thirteen?"

Finnick raises an eyebrow which makes me blush like crazy. I whack Kenin's head again. "Shut up!"

"Stop hitting my head." he protests jogging a few steps ahead out of my reach. "I remember them all."

I roll my eyes. "Just wait."

Kenin snickers and motions for Joa to follow him. They jog ahead putting a sizable distance between the three older teenagers. Yurol has her hands on her hips. "He is too young for a girlfriend."

"C'mon Yurol. He's almost sixteen. He has a point about me. You never had a problem when I was with someone." I stand up for Kenin.

"Yeah, well..." she can't think of anything. "I didn't like any of them, so that counts as me being over protective."

Beside me, Finnick chuckles.

Still worked up about the thought of Kenin having a girlfriend, Yurol harshly asks. "You have something to say Odair?"

In good spirits, Finnick holds his free hand up. "Not at all. It's not my call."

Yurol nods but doesn't say anything. She's looking around the market we've arrived at. Kenin and Joa are at a stall selling sail boats within glass bottles. They excitedly point at the different sized bottles containing one of a kind boats. Next to them is a stall selling a variety of sea shells and trinkets decorated with shells. Yurol has gone over to a stall with various seaweeds. Finnick's eyes keep wandering to a stall with nets.

I pull his hand and lead him over there. When we reach the stall, Finnick removes his hand and picks up a thin-rope net. "This is good for fishing. See how the gaps are narrow?" I nod not really as fascinated with the net as he is. "And the knots are very intricate. Sturdy." He turns to the vendor. "Can you tell me what kind of knot you used?" Eagerly the vendor nods and begins explaining. After the first over and under loopy doop blah blah blah, I'm bored. I give Finnick's hand a light squeeze and when he slightly turns I point to myself then Yurol. Finnick nods and returns his attention to the vendor.

Glad to be away from the stone boring knot description, I go over to the seaweed stall and put my arm around Yurol. "Hey."

"Hey." she says a bit surprised. "Where's Finnick?"

"Listening to someone talk about how you tie a knot." I laugh. "_Bor-ring_."

Yurol laughs. "Guys and their knots." she says shaking her head.

"I know." I shake my head too.

We begin to laugh and Yurol's face greatly softens. "You seem so full of life."

I nod. "I'm happy."

Yurol smiles genuinely happy for me. "That's important."

Seductively I whisper in Yurol's ear. "Maybe Finnick has some long lost cousin."

"Shh!" she bashfully hisses. "Don't say things like that."

Is that how I appeared to Finnick? Innocent and shameful? It makes me smile. Yurol is actually the very innocent one when it comes to guys. She's never had a boyfriend or even kissed a guy. It wasn't just because the responsibility of her family has always seemed to be on her shoulders. But she's extremely shy and private. Whenever a guy approaches her, she'll turn him away or make excuses. Although, I do think none of them were right for her. But she also needs to eventually give it a try. Even if it's just talking with them or hanging out as friends.

Other than that, Yurol is very blatant and unafraid. By her regular attitude you would never guess she'd be shy around guys. Like now, as she argues with the seaweed vendor. Defiantly, Yurol drops the red kelp in its box. "No way. It is completely over priced."

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to get the red kelp?" a young guy about our age counters.

"Nope," she says stubbornly, "but there's no way it's worth that much."

His head slightly drops in disbelief. "Are you being serious?"

"Very." she says, arms crossed.

Yurol doesn't see it, but I see a flicker of amusement in the guy's eyes. He has blonde hair and blue eyes, is fairly built, tall, and rather good looking. Of course, Yurol is too fixated on getting a good deal. She tends to forget they have more money than they could ever spend. She's spent her entire life in poverty, like me, and working to support her siblings; old habits don't disappear.

"Look," the guys say compromising, "I can lower it a bit. But not much. I need to make a living. Besides, not to sound like a scum, but it's not as if you really need the money."

"What are you talking about?" Yurol defensively says. She's forgotten they're rich. "I work for my money just like everyone else."

His eyebrows slightly raise because it doesn't make sense for Yurol to have a job. She doesn't need the money. But we both respect Binsen and wouldn't quit on him. I cup my hand around Yurol's ear and softly whisper. "Kenin is a victor remember? You're among the richest people in Four."

Her determined haggling face falls. "Oh, right." Yurol's cheeks have a tinge of red when she looks at the guy. "I'll take the kelp at your original asking price."

"What?" the guy asks completely thrown off by the sudden change in Yurol's attitude. "I didn't mean it that way. I'll still give you the lowered price, I just meant that while the seaweed was expensive I would have thought it wouldn't be a big deal."

"It's fine." Yurol says taking out the exact amount of the initial price. "Here."

Knowing better than to refuse an offer of money twice, the guy takes the money and begins bagging the kelp. "Thanks. I'll give you a little extra."

Yurol looks ashamed. "Thank you."

"No problem." the guy cheerfully responds.

While he grabs another handful of red kelp, I look over to the net stall and see Finnick still conversing with the vendor. He has a piece of rope between his hands and is doing various motions which I assume create an intricate knot. I remember him saying tying knots was therapeutic which explains the at ease look on his face. Kenin and Joa are looking over a green glass bottle which contains a small boat with light blue sails. Joa turns it over in his hands nearly dropping it, scaring Kenin and the vendor, but his hands fumble securing the bottle. The two boys burst out laughing and the vendor sighs in exasperation.

My attention turns back to Yurol and the guy. I catch the end of the guy's sentence. "—here often?"

"No." Yurol replies. "I usually take the leftovers from my workplace so I don't need to come to the market."

"On the first day of every month there's a few events that go on here. You should come by." the guy says in a very non-Finnick way though his intentions are along the same lines of wanting to see where things could possibly go. "Bring your family and friends too." he adds for her comfort.

Understanding the guy's interest, Yurol begins to decline as usual. "Oh," she say's not bothering to conceal her surprise, "well I have work and...other things." she concludes lamely. Before the guy gets a chance to respond, Yurol begins walking towards Kenin and Joa. "Thanks for the kelp. Enjoy the rest of your day."

Not only does Yurol leave the guy behind, she doesn't wait for me either. We both stand there a bit confounded. I'd expected her to say at least a bit more, and the guy didn't expect her abrupt departure. As if we've been talking this whole time, the guys asks. "Is she always like that?"

"Pretty much." I reply. "Don't take it personally."

Another customer comes up to the stall, so I step aside and make my way over to the Denfezes who are crowded around the glass bottle boats. Halfway there, a familiar hands grabs mine and gently pulls me towards them. I find myself facing Finnick. "Hey there."

"Hey." I smile back.

"What have you been up to?"

"Not much."

Finnick stuffs a piece of rope in his left pocket and walks with his right hand holding mine. "Do you come here often?"

"Not really." I reply. "We used to in the past, but since Kenin became victor Yurol and I have been buying the leftover food from the Shack. But tonight is special."

"Because _I'm_ coming over?" Finnick jokes in a questioning voice.

I laugh and walk closer to him. "And because Kenin is coming over for dinner." We arrive at the glass bottle boat stall, and I wonder about the rope. "Did the guy give you the rope?"

Finnick takes out the rope. "Oh, this? No, I carry this around."

"To tie knots?" I ask.

"Exactly."

Then Finnick looks at me in this way I can't explain. It's a mixture of gratefulness and being glad. The slight tilt of his head with an unspecified longing in his green eyes. It's unsettling desire with extreme patience. Fear of losing what we have while also fighting the urge to deny what we have. It's a constant battle of going back and forth between his conflicting emotions. Without ever being appointed, I know I'm his mediator.

I rest my head against Finnick's bicep and look over the table. "Which one is your favorite?"

It may be my imagination, but I swear his body warms beneath my cheek. Finnick delicately runs his fingertip along the curve of an air-clear glass bottle. "This one. You see the ship as it is without the enhancement of color."

"You don't like the extra?"

"Nope. I like what's real."

It sounds like a double meaning whether intended or not. It could simply be applicable to multiple things in his life, but his tone sounded thoughtful. So I add my own thought. "Real is good."

"Odair!" someone calls out.

We both turn; both of us also instinctively separating. Me because it's the first time our being together has been called into attention. Him because of whatever internal reason, perhaps the same as mine. But I feel like there's a motive of Finnick feeling the need to protect me because he immediately steps in front of my line of view. I have to peek around him to see the trio of Peacekeepers. Vonir, Lionel, and Derek. Derek.

I back away and go over to Yurol's right side. She's too enraptured in looking over the bottles, but Joa and Kenin notice my sudden appearance. They look in the direction I came from, and stiffen at the sight of Derek. Joa stands behind me on my left side, Kenin stands next to Joa more towards my right. Unknowingly Yurol is my blocking my left side, and my two brothers have set up the rest of the blockade. For Yurol and I's sake, they pretend to be creating this barrier out of coincidence, but the three of us know the truth.

I'm glad to see Finnick only appears interested in conversing with Vonir because despite being a Peacekeeper, Vonir is a good person. Easy going, never punishes anyone, keeps respectful boundaries. He's one of a kind. Unlike nearly the rest of them. Lionel is alright. Though he never enforces punishment, he likes to throw his authority around at times. He's talking with a vendor selling dried fish; no doubt he'll be leaving with several free pieces. And Derek, well, not much else to be said about him. Strangely though, he's standing off to the side busying himself by looking over polished shells. His posture and uninterested expression give away his boredom.

Secured behind the border of Denfezes, I direct my attention to the glass bottle ship vendor. "How much for the uncolored bottle at the end of the table?"

"You like that one?" Yurol asks. I nod. She turns to the vendor. "We'll take that one, the green one, and the blue one." She looks back at Kenin and Joa who nod to confirm her picks. "That's all."

As the vendor happily packs the three bottles in paper, I look back at Finnick. He and Vonir have gone to the stalls on the edge of this side of the market. They're talking in what looks like hushed voices with intense countenances. It must be important, but what could they possibly be talking about? A Peacekeeper and Finnick? Surely little could be said between the two, let alone an urgent matter. I watch as Vonir shakes his head and Finnick's chest heaves meaning he's let out a deep sigh. Vonir has an apologetic look and Finnick shakes his head with what appears to be defeat.

Finnick's head turns my way, but I keep my eyes on him. I'm not going to pretend I haven't been watching. A huge smiles break out on Finnick's face erasing a bit of the discomfort I've begun to feel. I turn away now because I don't want to seem like I'm spying on him. Yurol takes the bag with the three bottles inside and hands over the money. "These truly are extraordinary."

"Thank you." the vendor humbly replies.

Yurol turns and jerks back, surprised by how close all three of us are. "What are you guys doing?"

"Nothing." Joa calmly says. "We were waiting for you to buy the bottles."

"Let's go to the sweet shop after this." Kenin adds.

I agree. "I love their saltwater toffee."

Yurol looks at us suspiciously before shaking her head to erase whatever she's thinking. "Alright. I need to buy a few more things here and then we can go to the sweet shop."

Joa and Kenin don't let me leave their side by subtly nudging me to follow Yurol, so we all go along as she stops at various stalls. Whole crabs. A string tied bag of thick salt crystals. Five paper wrapped fish. A can of light brown sauce. Tiny bags of different spices. A few more things always means a lot of things when it comes to Yurol and cooking. When Yurol is talking with, what she swears to be the last vendor, Finnick appears at my side taking my hand again.

Joa and Kenin slowly move away to help Yurol with what type of pickled vegetable she should buy. Next to me, Finnick quietly says. "Sorry, I didn't mean to leave you. But you don't exactly say no to a Peacekeeper. Even if it's Vonir."

"What were you guys talking about?" I ask not meaning to be nosy.

"Capitol stuff." Finnick shrugs. "The glory of the games lives on long after the game has ended."

"It'll get better Finnick." I assure him. "In time."

He just smiles. "It already has."

* * *

_Finnick POV_

Yurol sticks a piece of strawberry toffee in her mouth. "So Finnick, I heard you're quite the cook."

I turn to Annie who is standing next to the kitchen island and she has a guilty smile. "Well, you are."

"Glad to know you talk about me." I gently tease.

"So, you're going to show me what you can do." Yurol says. "I could use some help in the kitchen. The other three are useless."

Playfully Annie objects. "I resent that. I'm decent."

"Decent?" Yurol scoffs. "This one time, she burnt seaweed soup."

"How exactly," I begin dumbfounded, "do you burn soup made of broth and seaweed?"

"That wasn't my fault!" she exclaims. "I left it for a second. No longer."

Yurol endearingly replies with great sarcasm. "One second was long enough for all the broth to evaporate and burn the seaweed."

Annie rolls her eyes and unwraps a saltwater toffee. "Soup is hard to cook anyways."

Yurol and I both say at the same time. "No it's not."

We look at each other and burst out laughing while Annie grabs her bag of toffee and dramatically storms off. "You two knock yourselves out in the kitchen. Literally." but she giggles at this statement and goes to the living room where Kenin and Joa are.

"Alright," I say turning to Yurol, "where do you wanna begin?"

"You can gut the fish. I'll set everything up."

"Giving me the dirty work." I reply.

Yurol begins taking the various items out and hands me the fish. "Of course."

I take the fish and unwrap them. The five fish are lying on the counter now so I take the one closest to me and begin gutting it with a knife from the rack. Yurol places a few bags next to me for the guts to be thrown in. While I do this, she meticulously places the seaweed and spices in a particular order. When she goes to the fridge to get something, I can't resist the urge to switch the salt and grounded pepper.

Yurol is looking over a jar of pickled cabbages, but when she looks up there's a loud start. "Did you do this?"

"Do what?" I innocently ask while working on the third fish.

"You switched the salt and pepper." she accuses, quickly switching them around and placing the cabbage at the very end of the ingredients line. "You can't mix them up. I have a system here."

"Of being anal retentive?"

Yurol adamantly protests. "I am not!"

Three voices call out from the other room. "Yes you are."

"Am not." she insists. "But the ingredients need to be in a certain order."

I've finished gutting the fish and I throw my hands up in surrender. "Okay, my bad. Your kitchen, your rules."

Kenin's voice smirks. "Technically it's my kitchen."

"Not helping." I tell him.

Yurol is smiling. "I'm cooking, my rules. You're just the help." she pointedly says to me.

I gasp in hurt. "You make me sound so insignificant."

"We'll see if you're anything but that." she grabs the cabbage and hands me the jar. "You need to stuff the fish with this. But lay it flat like a sheet dough." I nod and take the jar figuring we're starting from right to left with the item of ingredients. After I've stuffed the fish, Yurol hands me the red kelp which is towards the middle of the line. "This too, on top of the cabbage." I take the kelp and stuff it in the fish. Not exactly right to left item by item. But then Yurol grabs this jar of pickled white balls which is between the cabbage and kelp. "Put three of these in each fish."

As I put the weird vegetables in the fish, I have to ask. "So what exactly is your system?"

Yurol grabs the salt from the very left and pushes it towards me. "The cabbage is on the very right because it's the first item you put in. The kelp is next so it's in the middle because it's the middle layer stuffed in the fish. And the small onions are between the kelp and cabbage because it's the last stuffing, but it's a stuffing in the middle of the fish therefore in the middle of the other stuffings. The salt is on the very left side on the outside, because you need to rub the salt on the outside of the fish." she pauses. "You need to rub the salt on the outside of the fish."

"Oh, you mean now." I state. Yurol just looks at me. Annie has failed to mention how outright her best friend can be.

I rub the salt over the fish as Yurol continues explaining. "The green herbs need to be sprinkled over the fish so they're over the pepper which is why they're next to the pepper and not next to the salt. And then you put the pepper next so it's next to the green herbs and in the middle of the salt and herbs."

I sprinkle the herbs over the fish and comment. "Your system makes no sense."

Yurol laughs. "Everyone says that, but it's how I remember which way I'm supposed to prepare certain recipes." We finish the fish off by smothering them in the light brown sauce she bought, wrap them in foil, then stick them in the oven. Yurol says. "We used to cook this by holding them over a fire, but we have an oven now."

She sounds a bit disappointed as if she misses their way of living before being given this house. Personally, I would choose the Victor's House over the community homes, but I can imagine that when you had a real home, this place feels too perfect. There is another way for her to still cook over a fire. "You can go down to the ocean and build a small fire on the sand and cook the fish that way."

This makes Yurol smile. "We could do that." she says thoughtfully.

"Do you mind if I use up these ingredients?" I ask. "I think I can make a small dish from them."

"Go ahead." Yurol tells me. "I'll watch so if I like it then I can make it myself."

"The pressure." I mock.

Yurol just smiles and stands to the side. I grab the remaining kelp and chop it up into medium sized pieces. Unlike Yurol, I just grab what I need and toss it in. The strange onions should go nicely with my recipe so I chop those up too. "Do you have a bowl?" Yurol hands me one and I push the diced kelp and onions into it. "Flour and eggs?" she goes to the cupboard, hands me the flour, then she goes to the fridge to get the eggs. I tip some of the flour into the bowl, and crack the eggs over everything. When it becomes too thick to stir, I add a bit of water to give it a batter consistency. "Any kind of seafood? Shrimp, octopus, squid, I'm not sure if mussels or oysters would work."

In the fridge a few things clank together as Yurol moves things around. "We have clams."

"That might work. We'll see." The clam meat slides out of the shell easily falling into the batter with a soft _plop_. After a few stirs to spread the clam meat throughout the batter, I say. "Pan."

Yurol opens a door underneath the sink and takes out a pan. The spatula is in a holder with various kitchen tools. Curiously she asks, "What are you making?"

"It's a type of seafood pancake." I turn on the stove and place the pan on top. "This should be enough for all of us. Mags taught me how to make this." I'm not sure why I tell Yurol this, but I do. "I had them in the Capitol before my game, and after I won, she showed me how to cook it."

"Is the food really different there?"

"Unbelievably." I reply. I get one of those large scooping spoons and dip it into the batter making sure I get chunks of the various ingredients. Then I slowly pour it onto the pan creating a large circle, like a pancake. "It's impossible to imagine the different foods they have unless you've been there. But my favorite has always been the seafood."

Yurol comments. "I'd prefer never knowing what foods they have. I rather stay in Four."

Right. The only way she would ever see it would be if she got reaped. Which she won't because Kenin guaranteed the safety of his immediate family and extended family—Annie. They don't know this of course. "I doubt you would ever find out." Yurol smiles at my attempt to reassure her. I flip the seafood pancake over and let the other side fry. It's a quick and easy recipe. In minutes I'm finished. "Here, try it while it's still hot."

Before Yurol takes a bite, Kenin barges into the kitchen. "Nice, I love these." he takes one off the plate and bites into it. "Good as always."

Joa and Annie also come in following Kenin. Yurol lifts the pancake to her mouth and takes a bite with a bored expression. Quickly it changes into astonishment. "Omph di isf rully gu." she says through a mouthful.

"Gross." Annie teases to which Yurol laughs holding a hand over her mouth.

Joa and Annie take the last two pancakes and eagerly take a bite, their eyes rolling back in pleasure. No one says anything else, too focused on finishing their half gone cakes. While they eat, I clean up the kitchen area, and only when I'm putting the last of the dishes into the sink does Yurol exclaim. "Finnick, you're the guest. Don't clean up."

"It's fine. I'm already done."

She sighs and ties up her hair. "Well, thanks." Yurol looks at the clock. "I'm going to shower but the fish should be done in ten. Can you take them out then?"

"Sure." I reply and Yurol leaves heading upstairs.

"Let's go into the living room." Annie says to all of us.

I'm about to follow her and Joa when Kenin quietly says. "Finnick, I need to talk to you."

I stay back. "What's up?"

He walks into the far end of the kitchen and motions me to follow. When I get there, he whispers. "What was Vonir saying to you?"

"We can talk about this later." I tell him. "Enjoy yourself now."

"It's about me turning sixteen isn't it? We're going back to the Capitol soon."

I didn't want to tell him until after his birthday. But I can't lie to him. "Don't you want to hear this after?"

"After what? It's going to happen no matter what we do. I want to know now." Kenin tells me.

I exhale deeply and relay the message. "Vonir said we need to go back the day after you turn sixteen. It's a three day stay." It has dawned on me before that I am talking to Annie's relational brother about him being sold. "The Capitol wants to celebrate your coming of age."

"I thought so." Kenin slowly replies. He takes a moment to think. "Don't worry about me okay? I'm doing this to save their lives, it's a good reason. I would do anything to protect them. It's worth it."

I look Kenin in the eyes so he really knows I mean it. "If you ever need someone to talk with, I'm here."

Kenin nods. "I know." he bites his lips as if debating whether he should say something else. He looks behind me, and I glance too because I think Annie or Joa are there, but it's empty. Finally he says. "Are you going to tell Annie?"

"I can't."

"Finnick," there's pain in his voice, "I don't know if you should continue what you guys have then."

I've considered this too, but she's brought me in so deep I'm clinging to the desperate hope that, "Maybe she won't find out. She did say she doesn't watch the screens."

Kenin shakes his head. "People talk."

I'm too selfish to just give up. "Does she seem like the type to listen?"

"No," he slowly says, "but it's impossible for you to keep this from her forever."

"Kenin, if I could tell Annie, I would, _and_ _hope_ that she would understand. But I can't." my voice nearly cracks because I really hate this. "Snow doesn't allow us to speak of it to anyone except the other victors."

He points out. "But you told me before my game."

I nod. "I did. You were either going to die or become victor. By then it didn't matter if you knew." I crack my neck in frustration. "I can't get out of being sold or sleeping around to stir up the media, but I am sincere about my feelings for Annie." My voice is pleading. "You have to know I wouldn't be seeing anyone else if the choice was mine."

Kenin nods. "I know Finnick." he says sympathetically. "It's just not a good idea either." He looks at the wall for awhile. No doubt going over whether he should prohibit me from seeing Annie. Thankfully he finally tells me. "I'm not saying I approve of it, but because I would approve if our circumstances were different, I'll leave it alone." he adds, "Annie will always come first though. I understand your position, but that doesn't change whose side I'll take. And it'll be hers if she finds out."

"I don't expect anything else." I quietly say.

Kenin sighs. "I wish we didn't have to have this conversation. You're a good guy."

I give an appreciative chuckle and nod my head in the direction of the living room. "Thanks, you are too. We should get out there."

Kenin nods in agreement and follows me into the living room. There, Annie and Joa are looking at this airplane model with pieces in their hands. A sheet of instructions are lying on the table and Joa holds a circular part over the paper. He's comparing it to the images on the instructions when there's a _snap._

Joa grumbles. "Annie!"

"I didn't do anything. It just broke." she lies.

"Why do you keep letting her handle the parts? There's going to be a bunch of missing pieces for this model." Kenin comments.

Annie drops the broken piece and leans back in her chair. "Fine, fine. I give up. I'll let you and Joa finish this without my help." When no one speaks up to refute this, she complains. "You guys are supposed to want my help."

Joa laughs. "Not when you break everything you touch."

Indignantly she stands up and says to me. "Finnick, let's go somewhere else." But actually unoffended, she ruffles Joa's hair causing him to protest loudly, and she pats Kenin on the back. "I could use some fresh air."

We go outside and sit on the porch stairs. The sky is a pink orange with the setting sun, and the fluffy clouds are colored too. Annie's leg is against mine, her left arm resting across both our thighs. I touch the bracelet I made for her. "You're still wearing it."

"Of course. It's beautiful." Annie breathes. "And this way, I won't lose the shells or sea glass."

"Or have it accidently drop and get crushed underfoot?" I joke.

She flushes. "About that, I'm sorry. I really liked the second shell. It's just, I got so mad. I didn't want to have something you gave me since I thought you had...moved on." she finishes shyly.

I stare into Annie's dark emerald-green eyes. "You're the only one I want to be with."

The other girls, who had good reason to, always asked about the rumors they heard. About all the other girls I was seen with and slept with; if I had been with all those people, why did I want to be with them; I was the "golden boy" so there was no way I could have wanted them, not when I could have anyone I wanted. The insecurity, though having good foundations, never ceased to annoy me. Their absence of confidence—the main reason they found worth in me wanting to have sex—caused the utter lack of respect I would feel towards them. Because honestly, who wants to be with someone who is so deeply insecure and unhappy with themselves that they can't see any of their own worth?

But Annie isn't like them. Which is what makes her so special. Because Annie simply replies. "I believe you." she trusts what I say without factoring in the other people, and if she doesn't think I am being truthful, she doesn't tolerate it. She stands up for herself. I respect that. And above all else, I respect her.

"Good." I murmur running my fingers along the different shells.

Annie puts her hand on top of mine. "I'm glad to see you and Yurol getting along."

"Because she doesn't like me?" I ask.

"It's not that she doesn't like you." Annie says in a completely contradicting tone. "She's just heard about you. And she doesn't exactly trust you. Besides, hardly anyone gets her stamp of approval. It comes with growing up so fast. Minul was always sickly, so Yurol practically raised Kenin and Joa long before her parents died."

I softly ask. "What was wrong with him?"

Annie squeezes my hand for comfort. "His heart and lungs. He was born with some kind of defect that eventually began to affect his other organs. Their parents worked long hours every day to support their family, me, and to pay for the medication Minul needed."

It may be rude, but I ask. "Why did they attack the Peacekeepers when Minul was reaped? They must have known they would be leaving their other three children behind."

"I don't think they thought it would be punishable by death." Annie quietly says. "Most of us didn't. But I guess because it was being screened live all over Panem, the Capitol can't show what looks like an act of rebellion." she wipes away a tear. "And, he only had a few months to live when he was reaped. I don't think they could stand the thought of him being taken away earlier than what was already an early death."

I wipe away Annie's tear. "You were close with Minul?"

"And his parents. I always felt like a part of their family." Annie presses her face to my hand. "Even before my family died, the Denfezes felt more real. My baby brother was only a few days old when he drowned so I never got the chance to become attached to him. My parents only let me see him a few times." she looks up at the sky. "I was thirteen when all of this happened. I remember my mother as being this almost feeble and slightly strange woman. And my father was a drunk who frequently beat her." Annie plays with the bracelet. "I rarely spent any time at home. From the time I was eight I would stay at Yurol's place for weeks at a time. Then in one day it all changed. I'd gone home for the first time in weeks when I heard my mother screaming hysterically. She was pulling out her hair with her back pressed to wall just letting out these awful shrieks.

My father came in a few minutes later while I'd stood there watching my mother have this nervous breakdown. He smelled like spirits and there was that look in his eyes that said he would beat my mother if she didn't stop. But she kept screaming and sobbing, chunks of hair falling to the floor. Finally he saw what I didn't. The wash-bin on the other side of the table had my brother face down in the water.

I remember seeing this for the first time when my father ran to the wash-bin. My brother's entire backside was slightly blue. I think he'd been dead for awhile. My father pulled my brother out, and when it was certain that he was dead, my mother just stopped crying. One moment it was all I could hear, the next it was gone. While my father held my brother in his arms, I watched my mother walk out the door. She seemed so calm all of a sudden. I watched her walk onto the road which would lead to the ocean, so I followed her.

I stayed at a distance because every now and then she would turn around and tell me to go back. But I followed her until we were standing on the shore. She gave me a sad look and took my hand." Annie lowers her voice to less than a whisper, and I believe this is a secret she's never said allowed. "My mother walked into the ocean with me. I'd thought she wanted to go swimming because that's where she always went when things were bad. But what I didn't see was that my mother also had a huge rock under her other arm; she must have grabbed it when I stayed back a few minutes before following her onto the shore.

So instead of going to the top and floating, we stayed on the bottom. At first I held my breath for a few minutes while we walked on the ocean floor. The water became deeper and deeper until the surface looked incredibly far away. I wondered how far down we were. And she kept walking. Eventually I ran out of air. I'd let go of my mother's hand but she didn't even notice when I swam to the top. It took me nearly a minute to break the surface and by then I almost blacked out.

My father had to swim to me and drag me back to shore. I must have floated on my back for half and hour before he got me. Then that night I found him face down in a bowl of spirits. He'd mixed this drink in a bowl and had been drinking it by the cups. When he passed out from being too drunk, he fell face down. It was one of those big stone bowls so even with the weight of his head pressing against it, it didn't tip over.

I was getting water when I found him, and immediately knew he was dead. So I went to my neighbor and told them what happened. The adults thought I was sleeping, but I heard them talking. They said my mother went insane and drowned my baby brother. They said it was a good thing I hadn't been there because she probably would have done the same to me. It's not talked about much, but there have been a few cases of new mothers drowning their babies in Four. They said my father knew this and probably couldn't handle the grief. Our case more than likely happened because he was abusive and my mother snapped."

Annie sighs and gives me a faint smile. "My family wasn't a family at all. The Denfezes are the family I never had." she pushes some hair out of my face. "We've all suffered significant losses within our immediate families. It's why Yurol comes across as overbearing and too protective. So thank you. For being a good sport about it."

I can't believe Annie opened up to tell me this, and I can't imagine the strength it took for her to get this out. All I can do is let her know I've been listening and that I understand. I take her hand and entwine our fingers. "I don't mind. She's looking out for you. I get it." I squeeze her hand. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Annie looks at my lips with sad but yearning smile, and I think, _Does she want to kiss me? It's the same look she gave me when I made her the bracelet. This is it. She's going to kiss me because she knows I won't do anything until she's ready to move forward._ The desire to have Annie's lips against mine is overwhelming. I can hardly think. The pre-pleasure washes over me and I'm about to lose it. I'm captivated beyond words. And Annie knows how to savor everything because she smiles with desire now, driving me insane, and slightly leans forward...

Loud yelling suddenly erupts from behind the front door, and both of us are so startled we violently flinch. Kenin and Joa are frantically shouting for help, and I leap to my feet yanking the door open. It's incredibly smoky inside and Yurol is running down the stairs with a towel wrapped around her, hair dripping with water and soap suds. We run into the kitchen and see Joa attempting to fan the black smoke billowing out from the oven. Kenin has a bowl of water and throws it into the oven. It sizzles causing more smoke to pour out.

I open up all the windows, get a tong, grab the fish, and drop them into the sink. I turn the faucet on and let the water put out the smoldering fish. Annie has grabbed some sheets and is waving them around crazily to help Joa. Yurol grabs one end of the sheet, and together they wave it around trying to push the smoke towards the kitchen window. Kenin is using the door as a giant fan, but I don't think it's actually helping.

After a few minutes, the smoke begins to disperse until it lessens into a hazy smog. Yurol's dropped her end of the sheet, her other hand holding up her towel. "What happened?" she incredulously exclaims.

"The oven started to smoke." Joa says with a wild look, adrenaline still pumping through his veins.

"We thought we smelled something burning, but we weren't sure." Kenin adds.

Yurol accusingly says to me. "Finnick! You were supposed to keep an eye on the fish."

"I know, I know." I admit. "I'm sorry. I got sidetracked."

"We were outside talking." Annie comes to my defense.

Yurol shakes her head. "You got Finnick to burn our dinner?"

Annie giggles nervously, her adrenaline still surging too. "Not on purpose."

Everyone begins to laugh at this point except me. It's like they're all on the same page. Connected by a deep source only known to them. Years of their relationship building into what it is today. I may not be laughing, but I see what it's like for other people to be a part of a family. So I crack a smile—for me to laugh would be forced and fake—because although I am not a part of this family, I do feel included. And it's a really great feeling.

Enhanced by the bewildering girl with dark brown hair and emerald-green eyes.

* * *

hope you guys enjoyed it! i hope to finish chapter 16 soon!

*p.s; for you seafood lovers, if you didn't already know, there actually is a seafood pancake like dish found at korean restaurants, it also comes in kimchee and stuff like that. really good if ur up for tasting new foods =] (btw, it should come with a sauce, use the sauce! i'm a sauce person, but it just makes it taste better)


	16. Chapter 16: Happy Birthdays

**Thanks for all the reviews guys! I truly do appreciate them. Your feedback is important. =] And I also appreciate everyone who is just reading the story, it's nice to see how many views i get. btw, to the guests who review, thanks! i don't have a way to respond to your review, so heres your shout out, thank you thank you. (ps. its funny, to whoever just reviewed about me updating soon please, cuz i just read it, and i know you just sent it, and i just finished 16)**

**so here it is, and ENJOY!**

**p.s; i'll be starting my fall semester soon, soooo honestly, updating from here on out will probably be incredibly slow, i will be taking (hopefully) 21 credits, but i have 19 at this point. as i told someone else however, i have these scenes in my head which inspired me to write this FF (fan fiction, I'm not good with acronyms, in case that is completely wrong) soooo i am definitely gonna continue writing because i HAVE to write those scenes. and they go into mockingjay, but just a heads up. ill finish, but it'll be a long time now unlike this summer when i started =]**

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: Happy Birthdays**

_Annie POV_

I drop two bags onto a table in The Shack's kitchen. Binsen looks up startled and grouchily mutters. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack Annie Cresta? I'm already damn near a stroke since you talked me into letting Kenin have his birthday here. Do you realize what that's doing for business?"

"Ohh," I exaggeratedly emphasize, "look in the bags will you?" Binsen is giving me a hard time, but I know it's just his personality. Beneath the gruff layers, he's a softie who actually cares very much.

"Look in the bags Binsen." he imitates sarcastically. "Would you do this Binsen? Binsen do you mind if I do what I want when I want? Binsen could you—" he breaks off abruptly. He's opened the bags and sees the money inside. Pure gold coins. More than enough to cover several days of loss business. "This is..."

I laugh. "From Finnick and Yurol. We all know it's no easy task for you to let us borrow The Shack especially when you didn't ask for pay." In the imitating tone he used, I say. "You're very much appreciated, _Binsen_."

He's still in awe. "You _are_ trying to give me a heart attack. Do you realize how cruel it is to tease an old man?"

"It's all yours. I promise."

"Annie...I can't accept this." Binsen says with great pain at his refusal. "It's far too much."

I back away so he can't give the bags to me. "Give it to someone else if you want. The money is now yours."

Binsen swallows. "Thank you." He looks sincerely touched. "This kind of money can do a lot of good. I can refurnish The Shack, raise everyone's salary, splurge a little on myself. Thank you."

"Your welcome." I warmly reply. "So you can stop worrying," I tease, "and enjoy yourself tonight. Deal?"

"Deal." Binsen grins. He grabs the bags and puts them in his pocket. "By the way, who did you invite for tonight?"

Now I sheepishly smile because I know what his response will be. "Anyone who wants to come. It'll mainly be people Kenin's age. And all the females who want to meet Finnick."

His eyes bulge and his face shifts into the oh so familiar feigned outrage. "What! I'm not prepared to handle that many customers! You are definitely trying to kill me. The Shack's name will go down in ruins."

"Relax. We hired other people to provide food too. There should be more than enough." I push the kitchen doors open and cheekily remark. "Who knows? Maybe you'll meet a woman who can tolerate you."

I dart outside as Binsen begins yelling at my comment, but it's too muffled when the doors swing shut. Yurol is outside decorating the interior hanging up colorful streamers. She puts a streamer behind a hook and looks at me. "Do you have to tease him so?"

I sit on a table. "Absolutely."

"Oh Annie." Yurol says in a tone, but I can hear the laughter. She steps down from the chair. "Do you think this is too much? I don't want it to be. I don't know what counts as lame these days."

"It looks great Yurol. Kenin will like it."

"You think so?" she questions looking around the room. Perhaps it is a bit much, but that's sort of the point of this birthday party. Yurol critically says, "It looks like too much."

I jump off the table and go over to her. "Stop worrying. Everyone is worrying today when we're not supposed to be. No matter what, it'll be perfect. Kenin will love it."

There's a knock on the door. We turn and see Joa who asks, "Where should I put the cake?"

"Bring it over here." I tell him.

Joa sets it down on the table and looks around. "Wow. It's very colorful."

Yurol grabs the chair and begins to step up. "I knew it. You lied Annie. I'm taking them down."

I shoot Joa a look. "No, no, it looks great."

"Yeah it does." Joa hastily says. "I didn't mean, wow, it's very colorful, terrible. I meant, wow, it's very colorful, good. It makes it exciting."

"Really?" Yurol doubtfully asks, one foot still on the ground, the other on the chair's seat.

"Yes." Joa and I say at the same time.

Yurol sighs and shakes her head, but at least gives into removing her foot from the chair. "You guys are terrible liars."

Before she can change her mind, I take the chair away. "We _love_ you." I practically sing.

She rolls her eyes and ruffles Joa's hair when she passes him to go outside. Joa runs a hand through his hair and grumbles. "Why do you guys always do that? It's so annoying."

"Because we love you." I sing.

"You're in a good mood." Joa comments.

I take his hand and begin dancing. Initially Joa resists, but a few spins and swings later we're dancing across the entire Shack floor. I'm giggling like a maniac, and Joa is laughing uproariously. Our hands are clasped and Joa pulls me to the right taking the lead. Of course I am intent on leading and I pull left, so both our heads collide from the movement of stepping forward.

Painfully I gasp clutching my head while Joa falls to the floor. He's sprawled on the floor in an undignified manner; both arms laying straight out, legs as stiff as a board. Joa lets out a long moan. "I am never," he breathes in deeply catching his breath, "dancing with you," his eyes close in pain, "ever again."

"You weren't supposed to go right." I tell him; my head throbbing.

"I didn't go right. I went left." Joa indignantly says.

"My right." I grimace. "You weren't supposed to go my right or your left. You were supposed to go your right, my left."

"My right, your left. What?" he asks confused.

I walk over to Joa and help him up. "Never mind. I agree. We should never dance again."

Joa holds a hand over his forehead. "I don't know if you should be dancing with anyone in general."

I take out two seats for Joa and I to sit on. Both of us are holding our heads, slightly discombobulated from the pain. He has a pained smile, but I wonder if it's for show. I softly ask. "Are you okay?"

"Well my head hurts." Joa retorts.

"I mean in general." I say in my sisterly voice.

Joa's smile falters just a bit. "Yeah. I mean, I wish Kenin would come home. But I'm glad he had dinner with us even if we haven't seen him for the past few days."

I sigh loudly and rub my head. "He's coming around. He'll be home soon enough." I take my hand away and seriously look at Joa. "I know things have been hard. Especially for you." Joa is staring at me intently. "Yurol works, Kenin stays away, I've been at Finnick's because of Kenin, you're alone most of the time."

"Oh, it's not so bad. I go over to Marcus' and Sam's most of the time." he quickly says trying to play it off.

There's pride in Joa's statement so I carefully tell him. "Of course. You have your friends to hang out with. But don't feel like I'm not here for you either. If you ever want to hang out or talk, just let me know. I always have time for you."

"As if I want to be seen with _you_." Joa replies embarrassed. His ears have turned red and he stands up. "I need to go and get the other bakery items." I nod and watch him walk to the front door, but then Joa adds before stepping outside. "I'll remember what you said Annie. Thank you." I nod and Joa leaves.

Some time later I'm looking over the cake admiring the art work of a sunset and ocean when a strong hand touches my shoulder and plays with my hair. Before they whisper into my right ear, I already feel the warmth of their breath. "Beautiful."

I slightly turn my head towards my shoulder, my cheek near Finnick's lips. "It is isn't it? Binsen knows the owner of the cake shop."

"Well," Finnick says leaning closer, his chest pressing against my right side, "the cake is nicely done. But I was talking about you."

I laugh and turn around, playfully pushing him away. "You're the corniest person in Panem, do you know that? That's the oldest trick known to man."

Finnick's laugh comes from within the depths of his lungs giving it a throaty but hearty sound. He steps forward ignoring my arms holding him at length, and he wraps his arms around me. I'm trapped in his hug, but you know, it's not so bad; I could stay this way for a very long time. Finnick looks down at me, our faces inches apart. "If corny makes you smile like this, I'll do corny all the time."

"That would be nice."

"Really?"

I shake my head. "No, corny is lame."

Finnick throws his head back and laughs in defeat. "Alright, so no more corny."

I'm staring at his throat watching his Adam's apples go up and down. "Except maybe once in a while. Once in a _great_ while."

"Agreed." Finnick says looking back down at me with a grin. He pushes some hair out of my face and seriously tells me. "You are beautiful Annie Cresta."

My body warms and I'm sure Finnick feels the heat radiating from my skin to his, but I don't care. He knows how he affects me, and I see the effect I have on him. We don't hide anything from the other person now, and we don't keep our feelings to ourselves. Ever since we admitted, well, ever since our feelings became obvious to the other person, it's like some barrier came down. No reservations, no holding back. Real and raw.

I keep my eyes to Finnick's. "You, Finnick Odair, are better than sexy. You're handsome."

Finnick blinks he eyelashes several times and pretends to bashfully smile. "Nah, you're just saying that."

We burst out laughing, and Finnick does that awkward thing where the guy holds you, but forces you to walk backwards. Our feet shuffle loudly against the wooden boards audibly grinding the thin layer of sand. While I walk backwards, Finnick leads me around. Suddenly he loosens his grip and pulls away. There's a look of shame on Finnick's face so I look behind me.

Joln is watching us with a net full of crabs in one hand. Betrayal and hurt are in his eyes along with hatred and anger. I step away from Finnick. What am I supposed to do in a situation like this? What is there for me to say? Knowing that I have nothing to say, Joln gives me a look of disgust and heads into the kitchen. The doors swing shut behind him.

Finnick doesn't make a move towards me, so I close the space between us. "I didn't think he'd be here this early."

"Do you want to go talk with him?" Finnick asks.

"I have nothing to say." I reply. "He assumed we were together for the longest time, and now we are. His accusations only seem confirmed and I can do nothing to refute them."

Finnick places a hand on my back. "But still. You guys were together for a long time. Weren't you?"

I nod. "Two years. We're over. It doesn't matter."

"Two years means nothing to you?" he asks, the worry evident in his tone.

"It's different with you Finnick." I try to assure him. "With Joln, we were together, but it never seemed like more. A part of him always knew that. It's why he despised you before because you seemed like a threat, and now it's because he sees how I am around you."

Assured, Finnick hugs me from behind and carefully keeps his arms pressed near my throat and no lower. "I'll consider myself the luckiest guy now."

I lead him to the front door so I can find Yurol outside. "Almost corny. But I like it."

We awkwardly shuffle outside, almost waddling from side to side. Yurol looks at us. "You guys look stupid."

"Yurol!" I exclaim.

"The scorn." Finnick croaks and pretends to crumple over, pushing his weight against my body, and I struggle to stay upright. But then the pressure lessens, and Finnick perkily says. "But, I'm sure you're right."

Yurol stacks some paper plates together creating more space on one of the tables outside. "Where's Kenin?"

Finnick rests his chin on my head. "At my house. Mags will go over and get him in an hour or so. Then she'll bring him here."

Very Yurol like, she puts her hands on her hips, and seriously says. "He cannot be late Finnick. There is a plan here."

"He'll be here. Don't worry." Finnick replies with an undaunted smile; at least his tone indicates there's a smile.

Yurol nods and her face loosens up. She quietly asks. "Did you see who came?"

I gently nod so I don't knock my head against Finnick's chin. "I did. He wasn't happy."

"I'm sure he wasn't." Yurol gives me a look which lets me know if I want to talk later, she's always here for me. She slightly nods, and begins walking towards the shop across which sells these leaves you wrap seafood in. "I'll be right back."

As Yurol walks away, Finnick softly comments. "You both do that hand on hip thing when you're mad or being serious."

I lift my arms and put my hands to Finnick's firm forearms. "I guess we both rub off on each other."

Finnick kisses me on the top of my head, making my knees almost give out, and takes a step back. "I just came to stop by for a little. I have some things I need to attend to."

My chest is warm as I study his face. "Alright. I'll see you before his party starts."

"Absolutely. It'll be a great. You and Yurol are doing a good job at decorating." he compliments.

"Thank you." I smile. He's about to turn and leave when I ask, "Finnick, when is your birthday?"

He shrugs. "It passed. I think it was weeks ago. When we went out to sea."

"That was your birthday!" I gasp loudly. "You never said anything."

"Didn't need to. Best birthday gift I could have asked for." Finnick grins and waves goodbye before I get a chance to respond.

Obviously he doesn't want me to make his birthday into a big deal. We'll see how sure he is about that. One of my gifts _is_ long overdue.

* * *

"Where do I put these?"

I turn and face whoever is talking to me. I see Cameron, the seaweed vendor, holding several bags of various kelp. I point to a table next to me. "You can set them on this table."

A few days ago, I went back to the market and asked if he could supply us with seaweed. Cameron sets the bags down. "Thanks for buying from me. Hope to see you later."

"Wait, you're not staying for the party?" I ask.

"I didn't realize I was invited." he replies.

_So maybe I didn't really invite him for his seaweed. _Nonchalantly I tell him. "Of course you are. Everyone is." He looks around with questioning eyes. I add, "Yurol will be here shortly."

"Who?" he attempts to ask innocently. I just give him a look. Cameron laughs and nods. "Alright, alright. No playing dumb. So that's her name?"

"Yups. And if you forget it, you're on your own." I say a bit harshly.

"Message received." Cameron replies seriously, but grins immediately after.

A fair amount of people are already here, mainly hanging out in groups, waiting for the main event. You can see all the businesses involved in helping us set up Kenin's birthday because various people are quickly navigating their way through the groups, setting down dishes of food or laying out bowls of drinks. Almost three dozen tables are outside, the amount of space on each table either gone or decreasing as more supplies are set down. At least thirty torches have been placed around The Shack in order to create more space.

True it may seem a bit excessive, but Kenin was well liked by his class before he became victor. Many of the teenagers around his age called Kenin their friend. He was kind and got along with everyone. It'll be the first time anyone has spent time with him aside from us and Finnick. Also, many in Four want a chance to celebrate Kenin being a victor again and this is their chance. And, Finnick will be here, much to the happiness of many girls and women. Of course, I don't mind because I genuinely believe I don't have a reason to be worried. If I did, I wouldn't be with him.

A low almost trilling begins to emerge from the groups and all the girls excitedly glance in the direction of what is my left. I see heads basically twitching and eager hands gripping each other for support. Faint shrieks and squeals of desire. Then Finnick steps around a group of goggling girls and comes over to me. We're in hostile territory, I can feel their dagger glares, but it feels like the safest place I can be. Finnick's arm goes around me pulling our bodies together.

He looks over at Cameron. "Oh, hey man."

"Odair." Cameron nods.

"You staying for the party?"

"Yups. I could use a break."

Finnick's right hand rests on my right shoulder. "Good to hear. You work long hours every day."

Cameron is about to say something else but stops when he sees Yurol walking towards us with her head down as she attempts to open a jar. "Annie, this stupid jar won't open. I've been trying for the past five minutes and my arms are going to fall—" she's looking up at Cameron now, her hands no longer feebly trying to twist the lid off. "Hello." Yurol awkwardly says since she's been staring for the past several seconds.

"Hello." Cameron replies.

Still looking at him, Yurol absentmindedly puts the jar in my hand and begins walking off. "I need to go..." I barely hear her add, "do other things."

Cameron sighs. "Am I grotesque or something?"

I shake my head and set the jar, which Yurol dumped on me, down. "No. She just has a stick up her butt." Cameron and Finnick gape at me unable to believe what I just said. "What?"

Finnick bursts out laughing. "Never thought you would say something like that."

"Why not? It's Yurol. And it's true." I giggle.

Cameron chuckles. "It's okay. I don't get discouraged easily."

"Good." I tell him. "You're gonna need that mentality with Yurol."

Cameron looks slightly worried. I don't say, 'I'm kidding.'

By now everyone who will be here is here, except for the stragglers and late comers. Mags will be arriving with Kenin any moment. Finnick and I make our way to the front of the huge crowd where Joa is talking with a group of friends. Less than a minute passes before I see Mags leading Kenin our way. He's blindfolded and holding her hand for guidance. A hush falls over everyone, and Yurol appears next to me.

Several yards away I hear Kenin. "Where are we going?"

"Oh you'll see. I have a surprise for you."

"Mags, you didn't have to get me anything. It's not a big deal."

Mags chuckles and winks at Finnick. "Trust me. No one's making it a big deal. It's just a small gift."

She stops in front of us. I can feel the anticipation of the entire crowd. How will Kenin respond? Mags begins to take off Kenin's blindfold, and when his eyes begin to open, everyone in the front screams as the people behind follow our lead, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY KENIN!"

* * *

_Finnick POV_

Shock followed by a beaming grin is Kenin's response. The Denfezes and Annie are laughing, embracing him in their family hug. Everyone else is laughing and smiling, glad Kenin is surprised. Loud chatter fills the air and the party begins. The music players I hired begin to play their flutes, beat their drums, ring their bells, and play other instruments I don't know the names to. Many people begin to eat the food laid out on the tables.

Annie returns, settling herself under my arm, and leads me inside The Shack. I'm a bit apprehensive about going inside because Joln is there, but I'll have to get used to it. I don't consider myself the jealous type, but I feel a twinge because Annie works with him. It's crowded inside with various people talking or dancing in the middle of the floor, and we go over to a table with drinks.

"Here." Annie tells me holding up a cup. "Binsen made a large batch especially for you."

Gratefully I take the purple drink. "Thanks. He did? That was kind of him."

"You're his favorite customer." she says with a smirk.

"Why?" I ask taking a sip letting the overpowering sweetness envelop the roof of my mouth and tongue.

Annie pours herself a light orange drink. "When you come to eat, all the girls come to eat."

I roll my eyes and give her shoulder a squeeze. "I'm only come for you. And I guess you could count Yurol since I walk her home to."

She begins to laugh and takes another sip.

It's late afternoon and the natural light is dimming with the pink-orange sky. In an hour, the sun will go down and the torches will be lit. Everything will be bathed in shadows then, and personally, I prefer the night for these events. It gives it an air of anything can happen. Venturing out into the unknown. And I'll be going there with Annie.

I take a few strands of Annie's dark silky hair between my fingers memorizing the feel. It's a tad frizzy from the humidity, but still incredibly soft and beautiful. I could play with her hair all day. It would mean she was at a finger's length at all times. Never far away. Never out of reach. Like she will be tomorrow. I try not to dwell on the fact I'll be leaving for three days where my body will belong to many others, but I feel it lingering at the back of my mind—a place it's never been before. Kenin is right, this isn't fair for her.

Annie senses something is on my mind, but instead of asking, she takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor. She's assuring me she wants to be with me. That I deserve her. When I really don't. And when Annie puts her head to my chest as we sway around it completely destroys my will to deny her. We move our feet to the beat of the music and dance through several songs.

The first one is slow, so we stay pressed together. Her head to my chest, my hand on her lower back, us drifting from space to space. I never thought I would hear myself think this, but it does feel as if our hearts are connected. It's not just the physical aspect, but it's us being _here_ together dancing to _this_ music. A slow rhythmic beating of the drum with the soft tunes from the other instruments. I lift my hand and place it on the nape of her neck through the great volume of dark brown hair.

The song fades away and is immediately replaced with the quick beating of drums and high squeal of flutes quickly blowing out their notes. Everyone begins moving to the music. Annie takes my hand in hers and begins to move her legs back and forth. Two steps back, one giant step forward. I twirl her with the flick of my hand and pull her in pressing our bodies against each other. We seductively shimmy from side to side and my body becomes enveloped in heat.

Annie teasingly drags a few fingertips across my bare chest, which is showing from beneath my unbuttoned white shirt, and does that all the way until she meets my forearm. She steps away from me completely, and gives me a nod telling me to make my way over. Instinctively my eyebrows raise as I take that step forward. My hand reaches out to take hers, and I stand inches away towering over her, our faces intently gazing at one another. Annie is looking up, little beads of sweat collecting on her forehead, hair slightly damp. I'm looking down, chest heavily heaving.

A fire of mischief burns brightly in those stunningly beautiful green eyes. I am bound in this moment, unable to tear myself away, completely rendered powerless to Annie Cresta. Every part of me is set a blazed, tormented greatly by the consuming desire to lean down and press my lips to hers. When did I fall for her? When did my feelings become so much more than what I ever thought possible? One day she was some random girl, another day she was a girl, after many days she was Annie, then suddenly through the accumulation of days Annie became Annie Cresta the girl I can't be apart from. I have to at least know she is mine. She is with me.

This is insane.

When did Annie Cresta creep up on me?

I know, I am hers.

Annie's fire is still burning brightly and it nearly melts my skin when she reaches up to touch my cheek. I can feel my sweat sticking to her fingers, but she doesn't seem to mind. She's too focused on studying my face. I've never felt more naked than now. Annie must see this because she smiles with endearment.

"Finnick." she whispers, almost drowned out by the laughter and music.

"Annie." I whisper back.

She leans forward. I lean forward.

Quietly she whispers with those full lips pulled into a smile. "You're supposed to be dancing."

And like that, she takes a step back moving her entire body to the music, but more importantly, no longer within kissing distance. Honestly, as shameful as this is, I have to admit, I almost cry in disappointment. I really was looking forward to that kiss.

A bit dramatically, maybe, I bite back the tears and follow her. She leads me through the next few songs, something that's never happened before, and maybe that's the point. With Annie, it's all about the never-happened-befores. Every step of our way has thrown me off and given me a new perspective on what I thought I knew in life. I'd honestly believed there was nothing new for me to learn or see. How wrong have I been proven.

I grin and follow her lead.

Countless songs later, we break off from the crowd and stand next to the table of drinks. We're both covered in sweat, our hair and clothes sticking to our skin. Annie wipes a hand across her forehead, and takes a deep gulp of some light yellow drink. Her voice is amplified by the cup. "I'm exhausted."

I quench my parched throat with the sweet purple drink. "How long have we been dancing?"

"A long time. They lit the torches awhile back." Annie tells me with her lips still pressed to her cup. If only those lips were pressed to mine.

I push away this thought and nod outside. "Let's get some air."

"Alright." she cheerfully responds and refills her cup to the top.

I do the same and then we head outside. Many faces are illuminated by the torches with shadows flickering across constantly changing expressions. The music is playing loudly blurring with the drone of chatter. Several girls look my way wistfully, but I don't give them any indication of wanting to meet up. Instead, I tighten my grip around Annie's hand and follow her through the crowd of people.

Annie's hair is more frizzy now from the humidity inside The Shack and from the warm air of people's body heat outside. Several strands stand out from all locations on her head. It truly adds to her image. Usually girls are so concerned about smoothing down their hair and creating some unachievable perfect look. I like the frizz because this shows me the real side of Annie.

She slows her pace and begins to walk at my side with Kenin in view. He's surrounded by a group of people and actually seems to be genuinely smiling. Of course, several of the people are girls his age. Annie barges through the group, pulling me with her, and blocking Kenin from the girls. Two words come to mind; block is one of them, the other word rhymes with it.

"Kenin!" Annie excitedly says. "You enjoying yourself?"

With good humor, he replies. "Well I was until you scared everyone away."

This doesn't faze her. "They'll be back. I haven't got to spend time with you since we wished you happy birthday."

Kenin puts his arms around Annie so I let go of her hand. I think Annie is whispering something to him because occasionally Kenin's head nods. When they part, she looks him in the eyes before looking at me briefly. She turns her attention back to Kenin. "Have fun tonight. I'm glad you haven't run off or anything."

"Unless it's to run off with a girl." Kenin jokes.

"Gross." Annie playfully squeals. "I don't want to hear _that_. And don't let Yurol hear you saying things like that. She'll lose her mind."

Kenin laughs. "She'll come around someday." Then Kenin gets this protective look in his eyes. "On this topic, do you know who Yurol is talking to? I've never seen him before."

"What?" Annie nearly shrieks. "Where is she?"

"Over there by the bonfire." Kenin tells her.

Apparently Annie forgets I'm her date because she takes off running, leaving me behind. But I don't mind. I understand the loyalty she has to her family. I watch her disappear in the crowd of people, heading in the direction of where fire burns brightly.

Kenin comes over and stands next to me. "Do you know who Yurol is talking to?"

"It's probably this guy Cameron. The seaweed vendor at the market." I tell him.

"The seaweed vendor?" Kenin repeats, unable to recall who that is. "Do you know him?"

I shake my head. "Not really. I've talked to him a few times at the market."

Kenin glances in the direction of the bonfire. "I'll check on Yurol later." he looks back at me. "I never got the chance to thank you. Annie told me it was your idea to throw a surprise party."

"Don't mention it. You deserve to have fun."

Kenin warily smiles. "I'd forgotten what it was like to live among the living. I'm not sure how I spent so much time in solitary. It seems unbearable."

I tell him. "It is unbearable. We just learn to live with it."

There's hesitation in Kenin's voice when he tells me. "Annie seems really happy."

"You think?" I ask because I do need confirmation that there can be some good coming from me being with her.

"Yeah." Kenin replies. "She does. I've never seen her so alive."

I don't see Annie, but I smile at the thought of her. "I'm happy with her."

Kenin nods. "And for us, being happy is a big deal."

* * *

_Annie POV_

A girlish smile, unlike any smile I've ever seen on Yurol before, is glowing beautifully in the bonfire's light. She laughs at something Cameron says and puts a hand to her mouth. The relaxed state I see in Yurol stops me from going over. I'm sure she would be glad to share this moment with me. I know she would want me at her side when she appears to be this happy. Which is why I stay back. This her and Cameron's moment. Not ours. Theirs. I smile and head back towards where I left Kenin and Finnick.

Finnick! I left him didn't I? I hope he isn't mad. Joln always got mad whenever I abruptly left because my mind got distracted. But it's not like I do it intentionally. I don't mean anything by it. It's just my mind is constantly going a million miles. I quicken my pace and am basically jogging when I finally reach Finnick and Kenin.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to leave you." I tell Finnick apologetically.

He reaches for my hand. "Don't be. Did you talk to Yurol?"

"Nope. She's talking with Cameron. I didn't want to interrupt."

"Oh." Kenin says sarcastically. "Like you did to me?"

"Whatever." I laugh. "You know you love me."

Kenin grins. "That I do. But for now, I shall go my separate way. Get back out there with the ladies."

He winks at me and disappears. Finnick has an almost tight smile; I think I detect a hint of worry. Jokingly I say, "I think you're rubbing off on him."

"I hope not." Finnick says a bit too seriously. I keep my eyes on him until he comes back to me. His green eyes sparkle. "Sorry, I have things on my mind."

"Like what?" I ask taking a step closer to him.

Finnick bites his lip. He knows I want the truth now. To stall, Finnick plays with my hair creating more frizz. Finally, he sighs. "Kenin and I are going to the Capitol tomorrow for three days."

"What?" I ask unable to hide my disappointment. Unnaturally, I have to admit, I almost cry in disappointment. I really was looking forward to spending the coming days with Finnick.

He seems just as pained. "I know. I know." his thumb strokes my cheek. "I would stay if I could. But our business is mandatory."

"What is your business?" I ask not meaning to be nosy. I'm just curious. And disappointed.

Finnick sighs with the same distaste. "Pleasuring the Capitol. It helps the tributes too so I don't say no."

It sounds like those two sentences hold a much deeper meaning than I'm meant to understand. I gently pull Finnick in the direction of The Shack. "C'mon, there's something you need to see before you go then."

While we walk, Finnick asks. "You're not mad I'm only telling you now?"

"No, that wouldn't make sense. I'm just disappointed." I look at him. "I thought we would have more time together after the party."

"We will." Finnick smiles. "When Kenin and I come back. You're the first one I'll see. You're the only one I want to see after I return. And Mags." he jokes to lighten his mood.

"Good." I slowly say taking in the sight of Finnick because he'll be gone tomorrow. We're in The Shack and I tell him to wait. I go upstairs and enter my old bedroom. Beneath the bed is a small gift I'd wrapped and was saving for a special occasion which has apparently passed. However, most things can technically never be too late. For a brief moment I look around the room I've been living in for the past year after the Denfezes recovered from Minul's death; Yurol never said anything, but I knew it became hard for me to live with them after her parents were no longer there to contribute with helping their entire family. I loved this room. But I have a new life now.

I turn off the light and return to Finnick. He has an annoyed look as two girls are eagerly talking to him. They step closer and he steps back. "I'm not interested. I'm with someone."

"That girl?" one of the girls asks in surprise.

"She's strange, you know that, right?" the other one asks.

I bite my lip. Maybe I'm not as discreet with the crazy as I thought I've been. I always knew the Denfezes knew something was different, but I didn't think other people paid attention. Perhaps I've underestimated their powers of observation.

My heart nearly breaks when Finnick angrily spats. "And what? You think you two are a better suit for me?" he laughs spitefully like that's a huge joke. "She's not strange, she's interesting. And even if she was different, it gives her a lot more to offer than what I would ever want from the both of you combined. You two are so pathetic, and that's worse than strange."

The two girls burst into tears and run out The Shack. Several people look Finnick's way, and he's oblivious to their stares as he is clearly seething over their conversation. I lightly descend the stairs and do a sort of walk-hop in front of him. "That was nice of you." My heart nearly broke when Finnick said what he did to the girls because I was so touched that he stood up for me, but I also do not like seeing him become the guy he is not to me.

"Annie, no one talks about you like that." Finnick says still angry.

"Finnick," I reply just as seriously, "people talk. It doesn't mean you listen. As long as you don't, then it doesn't matter."

He breathes in heavily. "I would never listen."

"Good. And I won't either." I say.

Finnick understands I'm referring to the countless remarks we've heard from the various girls. If I got worked up or insecure every time a girl flirted with Finnick or said something about how he'd been with them, it would drive me insane. But I know he's sincere with me, and that's all that matters. I may not be black and white crazy, but I am different. And that's fine as long as the people who truly matter to me do not think of me differently because of that.

Finnick closes his eyes and slows his breathing. He only opens his eyes once his breathing has returned to normal. "You're right. What they say doesn't matter."

The dance floor space increases, so we step off to the side which is crowded with people watching. I walk over to the stairs because I know what I want to do and he's not expecting it. I step onto the first stair so Finnick and I are almost the same height with a few inches of difference, but this is enough.

From behind my back, I bring my other arm around and hold out the gift. "This is for you."

"Why?" Finnick asks in surprise.

"You'll see." I tell him.

Finnick takes the wrapped box. His hands slowly unwrap the paper, and he sets it down on the floor in a neat pile. Flap by flap he pull the top open. Then his eyes widen as he reaches in and retrieves the air-glass colored bottle with a white-sailed ship. Possessively he turns the bottle in his hands, looking through the glass at the ship from every possible angle. This goes on for a few minutes before Finnick returns to the present.

"Annie," he swallows, "I can't believe it."

"Happy late birthday Finnick." I whisper.

And he won't believe this, I barely do myself. But I believe it enough to hold my hand under his because I know what will happen. And it does happen. Finnick's hands loosen around the bottle, and both of our hands are clasped around each other's to support the bottle as I lean forward and kiss him.

Kiss _him_, Finnick Odair. Not a victor, not the "golden boy", not a ladies man. Just Finnick Odair. The guy I've gotten to know after more than three and a half months since Kenin's return. The guy who gives me shells and brushes off small wrongs. The guy who listens and has nightmares. The guy who understands broken and understands me. I kiss _him. _Yes, that is who I kiss. _That guy. _

My lips are pressed to Finnick's and there is nothing else in the entire world beyond Panem. It is only us, here, in this very moment. Lips pressed together entwining a bit more of us both. Before kisses were just physical and pointless. But now I see the point of kissing. It's not just a signal of more to come or being ready to progress. It's the spark which ignites souls together because when you kiss the right person, you know there will never be anything like it with anyone else. A kiss lets you know when you've found the person you're never meant to live without.

I kiss Finnick Odair and he kisses me back. He kisses me with intimate passion and patience. Deep slow kisses that I feel everywhere as if he is kissing me all over at once; in the most intimate of places. My lips part in pleasure and a soft moan escapes. Finnick's hand reaches up and caresses my cheek only adding to a mind numbing pleasure I never would have believed could exist.

I lose myself in our kiss. Completely and utterly. No sense of direction, time, location, self. I only know the kiss Finnick Odair and I are sharing. We kiss. And I lose myself.

* * *

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

hopefully this spaces so i can let that moment hang, and on that pun, i hate to leave you hanging, but as i mentioned before, it'll probably be awhile before i get the next 17 up. BUT, thank you sooo much to all my loyal readers who have been following my story, it really means a lot to me that i get to share the story i created in my head of Annie and Finnick cuz honestly, before i began to look up to see if anyone would have written about them (which seems like a silly thing to wonder now since it's a HUGE deal) i didn't know that there was such a thing as fan fiction. so the fact i didn't know about this, and you guys are reading myyy story, it does mean a lot.

so, thank you guys. and ill try my best to keep updating not too infrequently.


	17. Chapter 17:In Cashmere & Gloss' Position

**Heyy, here's 17! Haven't reviewed it so if there's mistakes, excuse them, it's 1 a.m and i needed to write this. and i finished. thank you for the support and reviews, i love reading your feedback. i promise i'll keep writing, but it will take longer. but i have so much in my head for my story. you guys are the best**

**enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen: In Cashmere & Gloss' Position**

_Finnick POV_

Have you ever been out of control? Unable to hold the pieces together? Absolutely powerless? I have. Once. When I was electrocuted during my game. I'd never been so helpless. To not be in control of your own body, it's worse than death. After, I swore I never wanted to feel that way again. I was convinced; nothing in all of Panem could possibly cripple me so terribly again. I, Finnick Odair, would never allow such a thing to reoccur.

And how sorely was I mistaken. One moment I was holding the beautiful bottle Annie gave me, the next she leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine. A kiss that took my breath away. Left me completely stunned that I couldn't think, react, or do. I swore to never be rendered powerless again. If I'd known feeling powerless felt this way, I would never have swore such a thing.

My hand must have moved on its own because I can feel my thumb stroking Annie's cheek. I gently move deeper into the kiss; every bit of me yearning for a want of more I never knew existed. Annie's hands, beneath my hand holding the bottle, clutches mine and I know the desire burning in me is burning in her. I feel consumed by the space around us. The only space that needs to exist is the one surrounding Annie and I because it would be perfect if nothing else existed. Just us. Here.

I kiss Annie again and again and again; never wanting this to end. But endings aren't so bad all the time. It gives you a chance to see what's ahead. Move onto the next moment. I slowly kiss Annie one more time before letting my lips linger on hers. We stay that wait for a few seconds; lips touching, my thumb on her cheek; freezing that moment in time and our memory. When our first kiss is imprinted in my mind, and I know I'll never forget how this feels in _this_ moment, I slowly remove my lips from Annie's.

My eyes open first because Annie's eyes are still closed as she lingers in that moment for just a bit longer. Her eyes slowly open revealing those beautiful dark emerald-green. There's a look of being lost, not confused, simply lost. Bit by bit Annie closes her slightly parted lips which widen into an absolutely content smile and I see the recognition of this reality in her eyes again. For the first time, she removes her hands from beneath mine, and places them on my waist.

I nearly drop the bottle again.

Annie softly says. "I didn't want you to go before I had a chance to do that."

I smile and raise my eyebrows. "So this was actually for your benefit?"

"Definitely." Annie grins.

"And how was it?"

"Eh." She shrugs and looks to the left.

Of course I know she's joking. But she did tease me tonight. So it's my turn to return the favor. I lean forward and kiss Annie's right cheek. "Are you sure about that?"

Annie grows warm again. She gives an unconvincing response of, "Mhmm."

"Are you sure?" I kiss her jaw.

"Yup." She gives a tight squeak.

I press my lips to the right side of her throat, and gently breathe. "You _sure_?"

Annie sighs and finally admits, "No. I'm not."

"Good." I smile and kiss her throat one more time before pulling back. "I would hate for you to think I'm simply adequate."

"Couldn't have that, could we?" Annie smiles.

"For you? Never." I reply.

Suddenly I'm being roughly shoved on my right side which not only abruptly tears me from Annie, the movement makes me drop the glass bottle. I watch it fall out of my reach and shatter on the wooden floor with a loud splintering of when glass breaks into pieces. The shards shimmer among the broken pieces of the ship. Before I get a chance to look up from the destruction of one of my most beloved possessions, I'm pushed back again where I stumble into several people.

Now I look up and see Annie standing in front of a drunk Joln. She screams. "What is _wrong_ with you!"

"Stay away from her Odair!" Joln angrily yells ignoring Annie. "I won't let you degrade her like you do to everyone else!"

"Stop it!" Annie screams and pushes his chest. "Leave him alone!"

I lose my mind when I see Joln grab her wrists and yell in her face, "You're acting like a whore with no sense of dignity or self—"

I'm tackling Joln to the floor making him choke on his words. How dare he call Annie a whore! How dare he break the first gift I've ever received in my life, given to me by Annie! Joln lands on his back, but he's just as ready for a fight as I am. His fist connects with my face and I hear the _crack_ it makes. Several people are lying on the floor from our impact, watching us from where they're lying.

I punch Joln in the face. Once. Then twice. And I'm about to go for a third when I hear Annie screaming. No words. Only screaming. The way she did when that boy Herfe was drowning. I stop my arm halfway, fist clenched, and look back. Annie is staring at us in horror and it kills me to know she's looking at me this way. She was never supposed to see this side of me in person.

While I'm looking back at Annie, Joln pushes my chest and kicks me off him. I barely take a few steps back before he's on his feet and tackling me to the ground. My back lands on the floor where my glass bottled ship broke. Sharp shards of glass dig into my back and I feel the ship crunch beneath my weight. A yell of pain escapes and Joln figures out the reason for my yell. He pushes me against the ground causing more pieces of glass to puncture my skin.

I grab his arms and pull outwards, breaking Joln's support, and shove him off. We get to our feet, but I'm not willing to hurt him further. I'd rather take a beating than have Annie ever look at me that way again. So I let Joln tackle me again where we land on a table of food and it breaks beneath our weight. We both crash to the floor, but since I'm underneath, I get the main brute of it. The jagged glass pieces dig deeper into my skin and I'm almost certain several shards have fully embedded themselves into my back.

Joln punches me twice in the face before several people get the chance to intervene and pull him off. He angrily yells as he's hauled off. "You don't deserve her Odair! You're going to ruin her! Stay away! Do you hear me? Stay away!"

I stand there with blood in my mouth and people staring at me. It's silent. The music, chatter, Annie's screaming; all of it has stopped. Everything is almost better when Annie comes to my side and tentatively puts her hands on my left arm. She softly says. "Finnick…"

I can't speak because my mouth is full of blood so I begin to walk outside with Annie. When I'm outside, I spit on the ground, and then turn to her. "It's fine."

Everyone is looking our way because I'm obviously a bit banged up, but this isn't about me. This is Kenin's night. I go to the music players and tell them. "Keep the music going. I'm not paying you to stand around." So maybe that was a bit rude. But I'm not in the mood to be considering other people's feelings.

Music starts up again and people slowly turn away. Most of them glance our way rather frequently, but at least the drone of chatter is beginning to pick up. I take a seat on a bench which has been set out, and Annie takes a seat next to me; our knees touching. She lifts her hands and holds them inches away from my face. Her cupped palms let me know she wants to comfort my face, but she's afraid any pressure will cause pain.

I try to shrug but end up wincing. "I'm fine."

"No you're not Finnick." Annie whispers on the verge of tears. "You're in a lot of pain."

My jaw is stiffening. "I've been through worse."

Annie begins to cry. "That doesn't make it okay."

"Of course it doesn't. Having you here with me does though." I reply honestly.

She lets out a sniffle/laugh. "I'm not a magic medicine Finnick."

I put my hand on hers. "You are to me."

Annie stops crying and smiles. "If you didn't sound so serious, I would say you're so corny."

"Corny is corny because it's the unsaid potent truth." I counter. Then I add. "Well, most of the time. At least it is when it's from me to you."

Annie scoots closer and kisses me again. Again! My life could end now and it would be complete. There's no way I could ask for more. She's given me so much more than I could have ever asked for or deserve. Annie's left hand reaches up and rests on my throat, her thumb stroking my Adam's apple.

I lean forward into the kiss, and put my hand to the back of her head. Annie's hair is incredibly frizzy and soft. Very gently I hold my hand there, never wanting to let go. Every little detail keeps our kiss connected. She surprised me again and only now I feel in control of my senses. I'm about to take lead when Annie throws me another surprise. Her tongue has unexpectedly and so seductively, shyly snuck between my lips, and tickled my tongue. I freeze up once more and feel Annie take the lead. My tongue can do nothing but react as she initiates.

Annie leans forward, her hand now on the back of my neck. I can feel her breathing increase and the desire spread throughout her body. It grows hot, then really hot, burning hot, then scorching. It's become so unnaturally hot I wonder if it's simply an undiscovered bodily reaction until I open my eyes and realize that we have slid to the very end of the bench near a torch which is leaning over less than a foot away from my face.

Beads of sweat have collected on Annie's temple and she opens her eyes seeing the flame dangerously close to our face. She lets out a yelp and scoots back pulling me with her. "That was really close!"

"Extremely." I laugh. I gather up the courage and lean forward giving Annie a light kiss. My first kiss to her. It's very brief, but still so meaningful. It seems impossible anything different than the kiss before could be incredible, but each one is unique and amazing in its own way. I'm already sitting back, and I playfully tap Annie on her nose with my finger. "You almost lit me on fire."

"Now why would I do that?" Annie laughs. "I can't give up such a good kisser."

I hold my heart. "Your true agenda for keeping me around."

Annie is smiling with all traces of worry or fear gone. This is the way I always want to make her feel. She keeps a hand on my shoulder still afraid to touch my jaw despite giving it a workout. All I want is to feel her lips on mine again. That's all. Annie gives me a light peck and our faces are inches apart, staring into each other's eyes, when a loud frantic calling sounds.

Who else would it be? "Annie! Annie! Get out of my way. I just heard. Are you okay? Move!" Yurol roars. She bursts through a group of girls who have apparently been watching us this entire time, and she comes to a halt, only feet away. "Finnick, your face!"

"It got to meet Joln's fist." I remark.

"_Look_ at you." She says in disbelief and her tone is so startled that I feel a pang of worry that maybe I've been horribly disfigured and I don't know it. Thankfully it's just, "You have _blood_ on your face."

Curiously I turn to Annie. "You kissed me while I have blood on my face?"

She blushes. "It didn't matter to me. You're still handsome."

This makes me feel good and Yurol exclaims. "You kissed! Wait, wait. That's not important right now. I'll get the medical kit from Binsen."

Yurol has turned to leave when Annie calls, "He has glass in his back too. Get something for that please!"

Yurol's eyes widen in shock but she turns back around and runs into The Shack. Now I feel the pain from the glass. I really had forgotten about it. My shirt feels like it's sticking to my back. I slightly turn my torso, the motion hurting a great deal, and ask. "Is my back bleeding a lot?"

Annie looks down and gasps. "Why didn't you say something earlier Finnick! Your entire back is covered in blood. Take your shirt off!"

"Why _Annie_." I say in a tone.

"This isn't the time Finnick." She scolds. "I'm serious. Take it off."

It must be pretty bad because usually Annie goes with my jokes. I grab my white shirt from the bottom and lift it over my head, and I'm almost certain I hear a few gasps but not in horror at the injuries I've acquired. I hold my shirt up in front of me and see there is a wide blotchy circle-ish shape of blood. Through the holes, made from the glass, I can see the eyes of many staring girls. I pretend not to notice. Annie actually doesn't notice.

She's inspecting my back; leaning so close I can feel the heat from her face which makes it hard to sit still. I casually ask, "That bad?"

Annie bites her lip. "Hopefully it just looks worse than it is." She brings her head up in front of mine. "You should have said something before."

"My lips were kind of busy." I grin.

"You're impossible." She replies with a hint of laughter.

I put my lips to hers and ask. "Impossibly handsome?"

Annie chuckles and kisses me. We part after a few seconds, and I'm already buzzing with ecstatic feelings of elation. How can such a wonderfully beautiful girl in every aspect of the word be willing to give herself to me after what she knows? That is what's truly impossible.

She taps my nose the way I did to her. "I'm afraid your natural state of just oh so amazing beauty will be put on hold while your face heals. But you know what?"

"What?" I go along even though all my injuries and would-be scars will be gone upon my arrival in the Capitol.

"Your banged up face gives you an edge." Annie tells me.

I smile. "That was my plan the entire time."

* * *

_Annie POV_

"Like I said, impossible." I laugh.

Yurol comes with the medical kit, and looks at the torches. "Nope. This lighting will not do. It's too dark. Let's go inside The Shack."

Finnick and I follow Yurol into the Shack where people are dancing, talking, eating, drinking, staring, but we go upstairs into my old bedroom. Yurol motions for Finnick to take a seat on my old bed, and she closes the door behind us. "Don't want people snooping around."

Finnick has other things on his mind. He slightly bounces on my bed while I take a seat next to him, and he pats the comforter. Suggestively, he comments. "So this is where you slept. I like it."

"Are you going to behave your boyfriend?" Yurol asks taking a seat on the other side of Finnick with the medical kit in her lap. "I'm not too keen on the idea of hearing sexual implications."

Seriously, I say. "Finnick, behave." Although my mind is focused on the fact Yurol just called Finnick my boyfriend.

He turns to me and salutes. "Yes ma'am."

I make a face and shake my head. "Never say that again. I hate the way ma'am sounds."

Finnick laughs and Yurol scolds him. "Don't move." This makes us both laugh and she sighs loudly waiting for us to calm down. When we subside to snickers, she asks. "Ready?"

"Yes ma'am." Finnick replies.

"I'm going to kill you." Yurol mutters and she bends forward, her head disappearing behind Finnick who has completely turned his body to face me. A second later, she says. "This is going to hurt."

Finnick grimaces as I see a part of Yurol's arm move backwards and I know she's pulled a piece of glass out. Instead of letting Yurol drop the shard into the bowl she brought, Finnick holds his hand up and says. "Put it in my hand."

Yurol complies and drops the glass into Finnick's palm, returning to his back with the metal tweezers. "You have eleven pieces still in your back."

"Ow!" Finnick exclaims. "What are you doing?" he asks with his head turned over his shoulder.

"Putting on cleaning disinfectant. C'mon, I thought you could tolerate a lot more than a few scratches." Yurol mocks.

Finnick shakes his head but he has a smile. "I'd hate to see what constitutes a lot and a deep gash."

I reach out and take Finnick's left hand. Each yank of glass and disinfecting must be painful, but he sits through it. His palm is sweaty and I think it's from the tension of enduring the pain he's in. Finally Yurol says, "Last piece." She drops the bloody glass in his palm.

Finnick closes his hand around the twelve shards and grimaces again as Yurol cleans his gash. "Are we done?"

"Not even close." Yurol responds. "Luckily for you, I'm fast at sewing."

"Sewing?" he questions.

"I need to give you stitches. But it's easy. I could do it with my eyes closed." Yurol says.

Finnick sort of jokes. "Please don't." he's hoping she isn't serious.

I watch Yurol thread the string through the needle's eye. "Where's Cameron?"

Yurol blushes. "Waiting outside."

Now that I think about it… "When you came over to us, you said you just heard what happened. Where were you before?"

"What?" Yurol says too quickly. "Nowhere. I was here."

"Even I can tell that's a lie." Finnick comments. His thumb strokes my hand.

"Do you really want to get involved Finnick? When I'm the one about to patch you up?" Yurol darkly remarks.

Finnick looks into my eyes. "I'll behave."

Yurol leans forward and begins to do stitch Finnick's gashes. "Cameron and I went to look at the sky. He wanted to show me falling stars."

Those are stars? I always through the streaks of white I saw in the sky were the sky's tears of happiness. Rain was tears of sadness. The white streaks were tears of happiness. Falling stars is the more rational explanation though. I come back from this thought. "You've been hanging out with him this entire time?"

"Yeah." Yurol shyly admits. "He's nice."

"Are you going to see him again?"

Very briefly, Yurol's eyes flicker to look at me. "I hope so. He says he wants to meet up again when he's not working."

My thumb is stroking the top of Finnick's hand. "You should do it. You never know what'll happen."

She smiles. "He's…different. Than the guys who usually approach me."

"How so?" I ask.

Yurol stops sewing and smiles warmly at me. "He's not forward. He keeps a respectful distance and he's okay with talking. He hasn't tried to hold my hand or anything and I like that. It says he's interested in more than just the physical."

I smile at Yurol and when she returns to stitching Finnick's back, I see that his eyes are closed. Could he really have fallen asleep during his stitches? I quietly tell Yurol. "If you're happy, then continue what you're doing. You deserve to be happy too."

"I know Annie." Yurol replies in a somewhat defeated voice. "It's just, I've had the weight of the world on my shoulders for so long, now that I don't, it's so strange. Is this the end of it? Do I finally catch a break now? Have the crises stopped?"

"I hope so Yurol. I really do." I say. "I think things will get better. For all of us."

Yurol has a pair of scissors in her hand, and she cuts the string. "You're probably right. You've always talked the most sense when it came to these things. You see the bigger picture." She does a few motions and then says. "Done."

Finnick opens his eyes. "Already?"

"Yups." Yurol gets up to leave. "I'll see you both later."

"Yurol." Finnick calls, and gets up. "Thank you." He gives her a hug where she freezes for a bit, then relaxes and pats his shoulders.

"Your welcome." She opens the door and begins to close it. "Behave."

Finnick takes a seat on the bed again. "So is that how girl talk sounds?"

"You were listening?" I ask. "I thought you fell asleep."

"Definitely not." He grins, stretching the bloodstains. I guess he should clean that up.

I stand up. "Wait here, I'll be right back."

"Okay." He replies.

Within minutes I return with a warm, damp rag and take a seat next to Finnick. Very gently I press it to his face and begin cleaning off his blood. Some of it flakes into pieces and gets stuck to the cloth; some of it stains the threads. His jaw is already turning dark purple fringed with yellow. It's so discolored that it looks more painful than it probably is.

I press the rag against Finnick's lips which are slightly swollen. "Does it hurt a lot?"

"It'll pass."

"Wounds don't heal that fast Finnick." I tell him.

"In the Capitol they do."

The Capitol? What? We live in Four. Oh…right. "So I should just leave the blood on your face then?" I laugh.

Finnick laughs and leans forward to embrace me in a hug. "I'll wipe it off in your hair."

"Eww, no, no. Don't." I squeal falling back into the bed.

Finnick is on top of me with his face buried in my hair. "I'm going to bleed all over you."

I begin to giggle like a maniac, but I keep my arms at my side because it'll hurt Finnick if put my hands on his back. I'm helpless beneath his weight, so I lay there suddenly becoming aware of our position. I stop giggling and my breathing slows. Finnick does the same and I can feel his breath on my ear. Almost involuntarily my hand reaches up and rests on the back of his head. I'd never moved this fast with any guy, but with Finnick it feels right. I don't feel any discomfort or pressure.

Finnick nuzzles his face deeper into my hair, pressing his lips against my ear. His right hand is caressing my left cheek. He lets out a tortured groan and softly says. "We need to head back downstairs."

"Why?" I whisper.

"Because my body isn't behaving." He admits.

Finnick gets off me and stands up, helping me stand up too. I put an arm around his waist. "Mines wasn't either." I point to a shirt Yurol brought. "Finnick, your shirt?"

"Right." He responds and pulls it over his head, unfortunately. As we walk down the stairs, Finnick says. "We should take it slow. Enjoy every little thing. There's no need to rush."

I'm standing on the last stair and Finnick turns to me. I lean forward and press my lips to his. "None at all." And we kiss where we did for the first time.

* * *

_Finnick POV_

"Why Finnick, your face looks terrible." Cashmere sneers.

I turn to my right and see the big, bouncy, blonde curls I associate with her. Fierce green eyes sparkle with hate. I put an arm around Cashmere and whisper into her ear. "Still look better than you."

We're walking in the train station heading towards our district escort cars. Gloss is walking next to Cashmere and he's scowling. Probably because my arm is around his girl, it still sounds weird, but I'm not going to do anything with her. The paparazzi has gathered for our arrival especially since it's Kenin's sixteenth celebration, and they've been snapping pictures for the past few minutes before we leave.

Kenin is waving to the cameras, striking various poses, already adopting a nonchalant attitude about his whole situation. There's hate in Cashmere's eyes for Kenin too because her defiance caused Gloss to be reaped and prostituted while Kenin is playing it off. I smile at a camera as they take pictures of my arm around Cashmere, and she does the same because we all know it's not just being sold, we need to stir up the media.

Our cars come into view and before I can react, Cashmere pulls me towards her planting those lips I know so well onto mine. It catches me completely off guard, and it takes me a second to pull my head back. I very softly, but seriously whisper. "Stop it."

She looks surprised, and behind her Gloss looks annoyed. Cashmere tilts her head in questioning before getting into District Two's escort car. I'm burning with guilt as I take a seat in Four's car next to Kenin. It's extremely hot in here and I want to scream. I want to punch out the windows and tear the leather seats apart. I always knew I'd have to cheat on Annie, but I wasn't prepared for it to feel this way. The entire car ride I'm seething and being ripped to pieces by the guilt that I don't notice our arrival at the hotel. It takes the flashing of cameras outside the car window to bring me back.

I manage a forced smile as I get out of the car, but once I'm inside the hotel, I rush into the elevators, barely waiting for Kenin to get in. It goes up to the seventh floor and when we're both inside the hotel room, I slam the door shut. This makes Kenin jump and he looks at me. "What's up?"

"I just cheated on Annie!" I yell throwing a vase. It _shatters_ against the wall and a shower of broken pieces litter the marble floor. I see my reflection in the mirror and I hate what I see so I punch it several times. It cracks at first before shattering too; some of the pieces slicing my arm.

"Finnick, calm down." Kenin firmly says. "You knew this would happen."

"I didn't know it would feel like this!" I yell again, and I slam my fists down on the table, which was beneath the mirror; now covered in sharp fragments. Blood seeps from my hand and spreads across the surface. More calmly, I say in a steady voice, "I thought I could handle it."

Kenin comes over to me. "You can, and you will. You may have started out prostituting to help the tributes, but I'm sure Snow knows about Annie. So this is about her life too now. I will not allow you to jeopardize her safety. We'll both get through this together."

I clench my hands and nod after several deep breaths. "Okay. You're right. It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't mean anything." But it still feels like cheating. Because it is.

He pats my shoulder because my back is still healing, and we begin to unpack. Several minutes later, there's a knock on our door. At first I think it's Snow because my face is obviously less than perfect and I just destroyed some objects, but I open the door to find Cashmere. She walks in before I can shut the door on her. Annoyed, I close the door and watch her survey the wreckage.

"Didn't like your furnishing?" she sarcastically asks.

"What do you want?" I snap.

Cashmere runs long fingers through her cascade of curls. "I wanted to know why you're acting weird."

I spit out my words. "That's none of your business."

"So you do admit you're acting weird." Cashmere triumphantly replies. She looks Kenin over, a bit too suggestively, before falling back onto the couch and propping her legs up on the armrest. "So tell me, what has the great Finnick Odair troubled?"

"Get out!" I raise my voice.

Cashmere raises her upper body using her arms as support. "Don't talk to me that way Finnick! We're all victors after all. No matter what, we're on the same side." She says this in such a way that I wonder if she's implying something about the rebellion. As far as I know, One and Two have not been included.

I speak normally again. "Leave it alone Cashmere."

"C'mon." she encourages. "It's me, who am I gonna tell? It's not like you're in love so what could possibly be so bad?" then her eyes widen. "Don't tell me. The golden boy has fallen?"

Kenin is looking at us like we're crazy, but I guess only Cashmere and I understand our relationship. I sigh in irritation, but walk to the opposite couch and sit across Cashmere. "We both thought it would never happen, huh?"

Quietly Cashmere responds with what I detect to be sympathy. "It's why I hated you so. You never understood the sacrifice this meant." She lies back down and turns her head to me. "Who is she?"

Who is she? Well that's pretty much impossible to answer. Annie is amazing. She's beautiful. She's lively and silly. She's so clumsy. She's broken and damaged. She's sometimes a bit off but so am I. She is nothing I've ever encountered before. She is so many things and yet so simple at the same time. She is caring and loving. She is the one I want to be with.

I only realize I haven't answered when Kenin takes a seat on my couch and answers, "She's technically my sister."

Cashmere sits up. "What?"

"It's a long story." I finally speak up. "It didn't happen right away. It took time for me to be in this position."

"Don't they always?" Cashmere comments, lying back down, and I see sadness in her eyes. She runs a hand through her cleavage, but she's not seeing us. She may be looking our way, but those green eyes do not see us. "I never wanted to fall for anyone either. Not after I won. Who could love me after the terrible things I did?" she lets out a bitter laugh. "We don't deserve to be happy after what we've done. Yet we still want it. And he was so kind. So understanding. I fell for him before I knew it. Our happiness never lasts long though. At least not the way we want it to."

I lean forward. "Yet you guys are still together?"

Cashmere's eyes focus, and now she sees me. "We've tried to stay apart. It would have been easier to deal with the prostitution. But we don't want to be with anyone else. So we push this side of our lives aside, and focus on what we have back in One."

"If only my situation were that easy. Non-victors can't know the truth." I say.

"I don't wish you to have our situation. That would mean she would have to be reaped, survive, and become a victor. Our situation makes it easy to understand, but it has a terrible cost still." Cashmere replies. She's looking at Kenin who is putting some pieces together, so she tells him. "Gloss isn't my brother. It's an act. He was reaped because I refused to prostitute. I suspect you won't tell anyone considering your relationship with Finnick."

Kenin looks shocked, but he manages to say. "I won't say anything."

"Good." Cashmere softly says. She sits up. "So, Kenin. I guess you're the new Finnick with the way you've been acting. Unless you have a secret girl back home?"

He shakes his head. "No girl. And I don't plan on getting close to any girl from now on."

Cashmere gently but slightly scornfully laughs and stands up to leave. "None of us ever plan on it. It really does just happen."

* * *

All us tributes—our bodies now made flawless from anything that's happened since our last visit—walk through the ballroom doors and the Capitol people turn screaming, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY KENIN!"

Music immediately fills the enormous room and is amplified by the rising ceilings. Within seconds we're swarmed; each of us being pulled off to some side of the room to entertain a group of people with silly stories and feigned interest. I laugh uproariously and force myself to let my hands wander all over the grotesque women. On their shoulders, their forearms, their backs, their waists, their hands. Each time one of them touch me, a sharp pang of guilt crushes my chest.

Before I know it, I'm extremely drunk. It's seems too bright in here and when did everything become a bit hazy? I've never had my vision so blurry. All I can hear is a blended roar of various sounds mixing into one whole that I can't differentiate one thing from another. My world jolts and it's like everything is in slow motion that only now, several seconds later, I realize I stumbled. Stumbled? Where am I going?

A door closes behind me, and right when I turn around a pink monster attacks me. Vicious lips are against mine sucking the life out. Taking everything I care about. Everything that has ever meant something. These lips are destroying what I don't deserve, yet desire to be mine, and have somehow been blessed with the chance of knowing. This person, and every one to follow, will take part in condemning me to a life where my chance at happiness constantly hangs in the balance. They are taking everything from me.

Eager hands lift my shirt over my head, and then press to my chest as I stagger back and take a seat on the bed. I can see a bit better, and the pink lady with white hair pushes me back, climbing on top of the bed and me. Somehow I bring myself to let my lips move with hers, let my hands wander to which should be forbidden places. Somehow, I bring myself to lift her dress and I slowly pull it over her head leaning forward to kiss her. How do I bring myself to unhook her bra with one hand? How do I let her pull my pants down? How do I kiss her entire body and then slowly remove her last piece of clothing and kiss the bare skin beneath? Why don't I stop her from removing my last piece of clothing which separates us from committing the final act of unfaithfulness?

_It's okay Finnick. Imagine it's me._

_Emilia?_

_Hey. I know it's been awhile._

_I've missed you._

_You shouldn't. It never means anything good when I'm here. Well, not usually._

_But you're the one who made me breathe when I was electrocuted. It's always good to have you here._

_I know Finnick, but the implications of me being here aren't good._

_I know. It's just nice that you are now. That's all._

_Thank you. _Silence. _I've missed you too._

I'm holding her cheek in my palm, brushing strands of hair out of her face with my other hand. We're only here to comfort each other. _It was so lonely without you. You should have lived. Not me._

She shakes her head, tears spilling from her eyes. It's been awhile since we've seen each other, but she's older. More mature. Almost five years older. Her hair is longer with a hint of highlights from the sun. Facial features more developed and grown into. The plain no longer plain but rather a delicate pretty. Hastily she wipes away a few tears. _We've gone over this. I didn't want to live after what happened in the arena. You were meant to live. You were the only one who could truly find happiness after becoming victor. Look at you. You have Mags, Kenin, and you found Annie._

_I'm going to lose her. She'll see what I'm doing here._

_Shh. Don't think that way. It's going to be alright. Things will be okay._

I don't hide my grief. I bury my face in her shoulder. _I can't bear the thought of losing the one who has showed me this side of life. How could I ever return to living how I was before after knowing this kind of…_

_Love?_

_It seems a bit soon to call it that._

_There are many ways to love Finnick. You loved me within a few days._

_I did._

_Annie is showing you a form of love. In its earlier stages of development. Soon you'll see it all. And you'll really see why you were meant to survive. I promise._

_How can you make me promises in your death? Promises to be happy. It seems unfair. You died._

She sighs and holds my hand. _It was unfair. The Hunger Games are unfair. Which is why you joined the rebellion. You're trying to be a part of the movement that rights the wrongs. It's more than I would have done had I lived. Besides, I've loved. My family, my friends, Todd. Where has this been for you? We both know it was non-existent until we became friends. But then I left. And who did you have? No one. You had to win Finnick. To meet Mags, mentor Kenin, fall in love with Annie, and so much more than you'll ever imagine in this life._

_I wish I could have saved you._

_I know._

I kiss her shoulder and run my fingers along the curve of her back. _Do you really think I'll fall in love with Annie?_

_A part of you already has._

_Do you think she'll love me back?_

_I think your future will be so entwined with hers it'll be impossible to separate you both except through death. But in one way or another we live on. You'll be gone, but not really. Just as I'm not. You can't imagine the future you two will have._

_But you can?_

_I'm dead Finnick. Things are different. _ She can't conceal the sadness of talking about how her life has been taken away.

_Thank you._ I hold her face between my hands. _For telling me to live._

_I'm glad you chose to fight._

Again, Emilia is gone. But so is the pink lady. She's left me a bag of coins; normally I ask for secrets but I must have not realized we finished and she was leaving. It's heavy because it sinks into the comforter, but I don't want her money. I don't want any of their money. I just want to lie here in my drunken state longer than I already have—how long it's been, I have no idea. But soon, male or female, someone will be walking in through those doors and closing it behind them. So I'll lie here in a waiting pose. Because doing anything else it too much. Because I want to die despite knowing I'll be going back to Annie which actually just makes me feel worse. I'm going back to the girl I've cheated on. So I want to die.

_It's ironic Emilia, they've snuffed out the fight in me for now. There's nothing left, except for me to lie here and wish I were dead. That is all I have._

_Cashmere, I understand why you hate me. I hate me too. I never understood the pain until now and I took that ignorance for granted. For years I never thought of this as a big deal because I chose it, but you and Gloss did not. My offhand attitude was offensive and I see that. This is a way I did not stay on the victors' side; I'd been turning my back on the districts and playing into the Capitol's hands. Now I understand the defiance, but it's too late. I understood too late._

_Annie, I'm sorry._

* * *

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_hope you enjoyed it! _


	18. Chapter 18: Watched the Ocean Wo Ghosts

**Thank you so much to my loyal readers and to those who reviewed! I love knowing you guys are following my story, it means so much! Trying to update, and hope I will have time throughout the semester. I have a lot more to write so don't worry if there's waiting gaps. I appreciate the loyalty and support. You guys are the best**

**ENJOY**

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen: And They Watched the Ocean Without Ghosts**

_Finnick POV_

Hours later, I emerge from the room. Covered in sweat, filth, shame, and guilt. The spirits have worn off so I'm as sober as one can be. After getting lost a few times since I don't remember how I got to the room, I finally get back into the ballroom. Everything is still in full motion; countless people emerging from the bathrooms after purging, dancing, making out in the corner, drinking more, eating, talking, laughing. I'm completely beat but none of the victors are allowed to leave until the last Capitol guest has left.

Everyone who bought me for tonight has had their time with me, so at last I'm allowed to keep to the sides. I see Gloss dancing with a powdered white Capitol woman who has light blue hair, and he's nuzzling her neck making her giggle. His hands are stroking her back, and her hands are intimately placed on his neck. Gloss lifts his head and I follow his gaze. He's staring at Cashmere who is watching them.

Her expression may be emotionless, lips pulled into a straight line, but the sad jealousy shines in her eyes. Sorrow radiates from her and I wonder how I ever missed it before. It seems so obvious now like how her hair and dress are slightly askew. Does anyone see the sadness in us victors? I'm a victor and the only person I've seen it in was Kenin, I guessed with Haymitch, and a few times in Cashmere but I didn't realize how deep her sadness ran. How deep must Haymitch's torment run? His family and girl were killed. I'm understanding the concept of what this truly means.

I watch the gaze between Cashmere and Gloss, and I don't doubt their love for each other. You can literally see the intimate connection the two share. Their moment frozen in time. I feel as if I am held in their moment because their love is that powerful. It influences everything around. And I feel their moment break when the woman takes a step forcing Gloss to turn away.

Cashmere inhales sharply, her composure falling apart for a second as her face fills with pain. Her lips tremble, and she visibly swallows with great tension. I almost believe she'll breakdown and start crying. Then, she takes a deep breath and resumes the nonchalant countenance. Her eyes still on Gloss and the Capitol woman.

I'm still watching Cashmere when warm lips press to my ear. "You haven't looked at me all night." A bit surprised, I flinch, and face Heria. She gives a throaty chuckle which reminds me of death. "Jumpy are we? I can relieve some of that tension."

She takes my hand to lead me away, but I discreetly slip my hand out of hers and softy say. "Not anymore. I'm done doing that."

"Yet you had several clients tonight?" Heria questions.

"None of us can stop that. But I won't be sleeping around." I tell her.

Heria purses her lips together and looks me over. "Too bad. You were the best." She adjusts her dress revealing more of her breasts. "I guess I'll have to make due. See you around."

I watch Heria disappear in the crowd. It may be unfair, but I can't imagine Heria feeling like the rest of us. Granted I didn't feel this way about prostituting before, I did care about the sanctity of life. As best I could. Heria, well, we know how she killed her fellow tributes. However, I could be sorely misjudging her. This day has really scrambled my brain.

A few more hours. That's all I have to get through tonight. I wish I was with Annie.

* * *

_Annie POV_

"Tell me everything!" I demand to Yurol.

Like I've never seen before, she giggles and twists in her bed. "I don't know where to begin."

I'm lying next to her, and I prop my head up. "From anywhere. Anything is good."

Yurol presses her face into the pillow shaking her head, and then she looks up and giggles again. "He stopped by earlier today when you weren't at work. I mean, I just saw him last night, but it was nice to see him today too. I think he really likes me." Yurol shyly says.

"Of course he does! You're amazing." I laugh and squirm in excitement. "I can't believe you actually gave him a chance. I never got to ask, but how did this happen?"

"Well, I was talking with Joa after you left with Finnick to go dancing in The Shack, and Cameron caught me by surprise. He appeared out of no where, and I didn't exactly have any more excuses to not see him." Yurol blushes. "It was a bit awkward at first because I just stood there, but Cameron kept talking like we knew each other, and I eventually got drawn into the conversation."

I take her hand. "I'm happy for you."

Yurol sighs. "Oh Annie, I don't mean to sound naïve but he seems really kind. It feels weird that I get this excited. We've only known each other a few days."

"Sometimes things happen spontaneously, sometimes it takes time." I tell her. "There's no specific way for these things to happen."

Yurol plays with her hair, a dreamy expression on her face. I've honestly never seen her smile like this. I'll kill Cameron if he makes Yurol cry. I return from this thought when she says. "How did you and Finnick happen? Did you like him right away?"

"No." I softly say thinking of all the bad things I thought at first. I stay quiet for a long time because I think of everything that's lead up to us. Seeing him at The Shack, on screen during Kenin's game, in his bedroom when he had that nightmare, when he came into The Shack to eat, I slapped him, he accidentally bruised my forearm, he saved Herfe, his pretend nightmare, making me breakfast, his other real nightmare, going out to sea with him, the pink seashell, sitting through his game's screening with him, watching him cry for the first time, helping him shower, him holding my hand for the first time, us going to the beach because of ghosts, the brown shell he gave me, I thought he ignored me, we made up at the beach where he made me a seashell bracelet, going to the market with him, him coming over for dinner, me telling him about my family especially how my mom walked into the ocean with me, burning the fish, before Kenin's birthday, Kenin's birthday, the look on his face when I gave him the bottle, our first kiss, all our kisses that followed, holding his hand while he got stitched up, our last kiss on the bottom of the stairs before he and Kenin had to leave for the Capitol. A lot has happened between Finnick and I. I look at Yurol. "He slowly pulled me in."

* * *

_Finnick POV_

"Finnick?" Kenin's voice comes through the door. He knocks a few times. "Are you okay?"

For the past few hours I've been sitting in the glass shower staring at the same tile. I'd been trying to scrub my skin raw to get rid of the filth, but since I still feel dirty it seems pointless to try harder. Every inch of skin feels infected and diseased, although it's impossible for me to ever catch something due to the antibiotics the Capitol gives the victors. Having a disease though, almost seems like it would be better than the way my body feels right now.

My world is enveloped in the continuous sound of running water and it's hard to believe any other sound exists in Panem. It's completely filled my mind, thankfully, partially drowning out the disgust and shame. I'd never known my insides could feel like they're slathered in filth. Everything about this sexual business is appalling. It seemed so normal before, a lifestyle I would have chosen anyway, but now, things have completely changed.

My heart is Annie's, but my body isn't. How could I ever expect her to understand that? She seems so innocent, it's not a matter of denial, it's just actually hard to picture her ever being sexually active. If I knew for sure that Joln and Annie had sex, I would be incredibly jealous. Yet she remains so calm when she knows about my escapades. Maybe, maybe there's a chance she'll believe the excuse I've conjured if she ever sees the screens about me in the Capitol. I plan to tell her; by me having sex with the various Capitol people, I ensure my tributes exorbitant sponsorships which will make the difference between life and death. Of course, I can only hope.

I don't realize Kenin's come into the bathroom until the shower of water suddenly stops and I blink some droplets out of my eye. Cold air is coming in from the opened glass door. I shiver and ask, "What happen to my water?"

"I turned it off." Kenin responds. "How long have you been sitting here?"

"What time is it?"

"Past breakfast."

I stare at him to see if he's joking. He's not. Well apparently I've actually been sitting here for several hours then. I shrug. "Several hours."

Kenin sighs. "It's really getting to you."

"That obvious, huh?" I attempt to joke. Slowly I feel my senses coming back and I can tell I'm returning to reality.

He runs a hand through his hair. "I've become you. I don't understand your guys' position. But I can see the effect it has on all of you." Kenin lets his hand drop. "We're doing this to keep them safe. I know that doesn't make you feel better, but it is the truth. Keep that in mind Finnick."

I chuckle because Kenin is so different from the boy I mentored nearly four months ago. "When did you become the wise teacher?"

He grins. "Well if you're talking about our positions switching, I can't say that's so accurate. Mags, definitely. You, not so much."

This gets me to laugh, and I stand up now rooted in the present. "You also became quite the smart guy too."

I walk out of the bathroom and am about to go out the bedroom when Kenin says. "Finnick, you might want some pants, or even a shirt. Preferably both. But if you choose one, then preferably some pants."

I look down and smile. "Nope, I'm good."

Kenin was right. I don't feel better knowing I have to be sold to save Annie's life. But it is the truth. And I would do _anything_ to save her life and not endanger the Denfezes. If this is what it takes, so be it. For Annie and her family, I will always put myself last.

* * *

"_Finnick, why am I here?"_

I hold her in my arms. _"Because you know I can't get through this on my own. And I can't imagine these women to be Annie. I don't want to taint the fantasy of us actually, you know, with the image of these Capitol freaks."_

"_So you imagine me?"_ she playfully jokes. _"Only for you Odair will I put up with things like this."_

"_You know you're the best."_ I cheerfully respond. I kiss her lips, and though I am imagining her and it feels like a terrible thing to think about, it's better than thinking about the actual unfaithfulness I am committing.

"_You think having sex with me is terrible?"_

"_You know what I meant."_

"_I do."_ She laughs in that voice I miss so much. But suddenly she looks sad now. _"Whenever I come in situations like this, you always refer to me as she or her. You never call me by my name. Why is that?"_

I avert my eyes and bury my face in her golden hair. _"Because you're not actually here. You're in my head. I can call you by your name when I talk to you, Emilia. But when I think about you outside of our conversation, I just can't because it's not really you. But talking to you, it feels real. I need to contain the crazy. By calling you she or her, it helps me differentiate false from fact. It let's me know that I am imagining this whole encounter."_

"_You don't believe I'm a ghost? You did that night."_ She sounds like she doesn't want me to forget her. _"It's not that Finnick. I'm just curious."_

"_I do believe I saw you that night. But why haven't I seen you on a regular basis then if you are a ghost? The mind plays tricks."_

"_Maybe the dead have different rules."_

"_Or maybe the living are just crazy."_

"_Maybe."_

I look into her blue eyes now, and kiss her cheek. _"I don't want to make you sad. You've given up enough for me."_

"_When you can't let go Finnick, you're always sad. Some people move on and forget, but those who don't, linger in sadness with the dead."_

"_Are you saying I haven't moved on?"_

"_Why else would I be here? I can't seem to let go either, and only those who are still broken up about my death and become broken down, feel haunted."_

"_I don't feel haunted though. I feel comforted."_

"_Everyone has a different view on what things are. But the 65__th__ Hunger Games haven't left you, if they had, we wouldn't be talking. And you wouldn't hear the voice of the other dead tributes."_

"_Please don't bring them up."_ I quietly whisper, afraid they'll hear me. I can call them by their names because I wasn't close with them so I definitely know they're not real. But with, her, I'm not always so sure. _"No one moves on from the games."_

"_Not exactly. Some get better than others. Sometimes the voices drive them insane. Some aren't deeply affected by winning and don't hear us. Some of us have moved on and let go. Some of us haven't."_

"_We're part of the—haven't?"_

"_Yes."_

"_I don't want to forget you."_

"_There's a difference in remembering and forgetting. You're not the only reason I'm here." _She gently laughs. _"You may still have your good looks, but you know that's never worked on me the way it has with other girls."_

"_Of course." _I study her matured face. She's nearly reached adulthood unlike the last time I saw her when she was a young girl. _"You're beautiful Emilia. I wish they could see you."_

"_Sometimes I do too. Other times I don't. It's best if I'm not around."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_You'll understand someday."_ She sounds sad again. Neither of us say anything and I almost return to reality, but thankfully she saves me. She rests her chin on my chest and asks, _"Would you want to have a family if you could?"_

"_You mean if I didn't have to take those pills to make me sterile?"_

"_Yes."_

I rest my head against the pillow and put a hand through her hair. _"Probably not. I couldn't save them from being reaped. This isn't a world to bring children into."_

"_It isn't. Not yet."_

"_Would you have?"_

"_If I'd never been reaped and didn't know what the experience was like, maybe. If I'd won, no." _I sigh as she pulls herself up and holds her face in front of mine. _"Tell me about Annie."_

"_What do you want to know?"_

"_Anything."_

I think back to the first time I saw her. It was at The Shack when I was talking with the peacekeepers. Admittedly I was surprised when she didn't respond how all the other girls did, but the first emotion Annie inspired in me was anger. Her implication of me finding the games amusing greatly cut me. How could she think I got pleasure from watching tributes die? So I'd immediately left to relieve my frustrations with some girl.

Then when Kenin was reaped, her pleading eyes made me feel responsibility. I was supposed to keep Kenin alive. It was my job as a mentor. The way she reached through the screens telling me Kenin had to come home. It all had to do with entrusting me with the responsibility of another's life.

Annie seemed strange after Kenin won. A bit. Or maybe a lot, honestly. I'd never seen someone cover their ears the way she did when Kenin was hauled to the Victors' Village. I helped her steady, but she looked at me with dislike. It threw me off again. Not nearly as much though as waking up to finding her in my house. From then on, it sort of became a habit to tease Annie. Throughout that duration I'd seen her battered and bruised which still seems strange but Kenin and Annie dismissed it with her clumsiness. One of the bruises were from me. And I was slapped twice because of her. Directly and indirectly.

It's hard to say when I fell for her, but I know it was an accumulation of everything that happened between us. Herfe, her snot on my shirt, the indirect slap from Yurol, my pretend nightmare, seeing her asleep on the stairs with Kenin, covering her with a blanket, making her breakfast. By the time I made her breakfast, a part of me wanted her, but I couldn't admit it. I tried to play it off by assuming we were possibly friends.

Even in The Shack I tried to deny how I felt. I'd slept with some other girl before arriving at her work in hopes it would dissipate the feelings I shouldn't have had. But when she told me I wasn't a whore and had to do whatever helped me cope, everything changed. She saw through me and saw who I could potentially be. So when those girls were insulting Annie, it didn't matter that I lost the chance to sleep with them, all I wanted to do was defend her. She showed me her room and I didn't tell her how my parents died. Thinking about that brought on nightmares mixed with my loss and my game. Annie was there in my dream. In reality she was in my room. Helping me, sitting with me, talking with me.

When we went out to sea, I could no longer deny it. I still didn't think it word for word, but I knew it. Especially when I saw how worried she was when I went under to look for a shell. The fact I looked for a shell without expecting sex after told me. How I held her close in the ocean. Then she was at my front door to help me through my screening. I may not remember her being there most of the time, but she was there.

The ghost and ocean. True I slept around, then I finally admitted out loud that I liked Annie, but I didn't believe I had a chance until Kenin's comment. Finding the crushed shell on my porch indicated I did something to upset her so she had to care. At the beach we both implicitly stated our feelings were mutual. The market, Annie telling me about how her mother pretty much meant to drown her, the burnt fish.

Kenin's birthday was the point of no return. I could have left then. I should have. I was thinking about leaving. But when I danced with Annie, leaving was no longer an option. The bottle; broke my will. The kiss; made it impossible. Seeing Annie's look of horror; told me I would do anything for her. Getting stitches; completely worth it. Our last kiss; gave me strength.

Now I'm here.

Alone. In the room. And in my head.

My last client has left. After hour long conversations with Emilia; mainly of me thinking about Annie. I lie on my right side ignoring the ruby on the pillow, and cup my hand beneath my right ear so I can hear the ocean.

* * *

_Annie POV_

A knock on the door causes Joa and I to look up. It's extremely late, and what sensible person would be knocking at this time of night? I'm staring too hard in confusion that _snap_.

"Annie!" Joa exclaims. Grumbling, he takes the broken piece from my hand. "I don't know why I keep letting you help me on this model which is partially broken and incomplete because you keep breaking all the pieces."

I let out a nervous chuckle in an attempt to hide my anxiety. Only one person prowls the night at this time. Maybe that was Derek's plan. Have me let my guard down, then spring. But at Kenin's house? It's too terrible to think. But I am thinking it. Quietly, I turn to Joa. "Who do you think it is?"

He sees my fear. "You don't think it's?"

"I'm not sure." I sadly answer.

"Don't answer it." Joa whispers.

I stand up because I'm thinking of Joa and Yurol's safety. Peacekeepers can do whatever they want. "You don't say no to a peacekeeper Joa."

"Annie…" is all Joa can manage.

We both know it's the truth.

I gather myself and walk to the door. This is it. All I can do is brace myself. I'm glad Finnick isn't here, he wouldn't be able to stop it. I breathe in once and open the door.

Finnick? Finnick! "Finnick!" I squeal.

There's a look of relief on his face. "You're happy to see me." He sounds even more relieved.

"Of course I am!" I happily say without lowering my voice. I throw my arms around him and bury my face in his chest. "I thought you were someone else."

"At this hour?" he questions.

"It doesn't matter. It's you!"

Finnick's body is stiff as if he were bracing himself for something, but he relaxes into my hug and buries his face in my hair. I breathe in his scent mixed with salt. It's wonderful! Finnick puts a hand to my head. "I missed you."

"Me too." I say much softer. "It felt longer than three days."

"I couldn't wait to see you until tomorrow."

"I'm glad you didn't."

Joa groans. "Ugh. I'm going to barf."

I feel Finnick chuckle, and I giggle. "Okay, okay. We'll stop." I step out of our hug and motion for Finnick to come in. "C'mon. You can help us with the model."

"Alright." Finnick warmly replies. In my excitement to see him, I overlooked his tired expression and defeated now dull green eyes. Something is wrong, but he's trying to overcome it. Not let it bother him. I guess he explains it when he says, "It's good to be back from the Capitol."

I think going to the Capitol takes its toll on Finnick. I close the door behind him, and take his hand. "It's nice that you're back."

"Again, gross." Joa comments. With the Denfezes, I honestly don't expect anything else. It's sort of the natural order for us to be involved with each other's business. Now Joa looks a bit sad. "Where's Kenin?"

Uncomfortable at Joa's disappointed look, Finnick quietly says as we take a seat. "He was tired."

Understanding, Joa nods and tries to regain a smile. "Well, you can help me with the model. Annie has been forbidden again from helping with the model."

"What?" I exclaim. "When did this happen?"

"Weren't you prohibited the last time?" Finnick asks.

I playfully shoot him a look. "Don't encourage him."

Joa holds up the piece I just broke. "I can't even count how many pieces you broke already." His blue eyes are sparkling, although his lips don't quite reach a smile.

"Fine." I grumble crossing my arms. "Finnick can help you. I'll watch."

Finnick smiles, and I just think that I can actually cross my arms in his presence now. He gives my hand a squeeze, and reluctantly pulls it away. I know he doesn't mind spending time with Joa, he just didn't want our hands to be separated. So I place my left hand on his black pants where his knee is.

"So Joa, where did you get this model?" Finnick asks to make conversation.

Usually anything is a safe question, but the one question Finnick asks is one of the few sensitive subjects. It's not Finnick's fault, he had no way of knowing, it's just, well I'm not sure what to think. Unexpected I suppose.

Joa looks at the model and broken pieces. "It was Minul's."

Finnick freezes. I feel his leg tense beneath my hand. He's not sure what to say so I ease him in. "He would have been happy to let you help in building this ship."

"I'm not family though." Finnick responds. "No one but your family has been building this. I can assume Minul started it?"

"He did." Joa replies. "It was in his private box of possessions. We only looked through it after settling in here." He shrugs. "You can help us build it though. Annie likes you, and I like you, so it's okay."

Joa is busy gluing a stick to somewhere—okay, so maybe I am terrible at this model building business—that he doesn't see the effect his words have on Finnick. But I do. Finnick looks sincerely moved; unable to believe the inclusion. I lean over and kiss his cheek. "It's the first approval I've ever heard a Denfeze give."

Finnick is staring into my eyes and I see the piercing green replace the dull. Very quickly, before Joa looks up, Finnick cautiously leans forward and kisses me. A small peck which takes my breath away. Its utter sincerity completely incapacitates me. I gaze into his eyes unable to break eye contact.

Neither is he.

Joa does it for us. "I can leave if you want alone time." He suggests, not unkindly.

Both Finnick and I turn to Joa. He's waiting for an answer without irritation, simply waiting. I'm glad to hear Finnick speak up. "We'll behave. I promise."

"Can I please help?" I beg. "I'll be more careful."

"I don't know." Joa teases. "Do you think we should let her, Finnick?"

"Well you know I have to say yes." He laughs. Then he covers his mouth and whispers across the table. "I would personally say no though."

I gasp in feigned astonishment. "I can hear you."

We begin to laugh and Joa hands me a square piece. "You tend to break only skinny pieces. Hopefully this will be okay." I'm looking the piece over with no idea what it is or what to do, when Joa asks Finnick. "So why do you guys go to the Capitol?"

Very briefly Finnick tenses again, but it passes and he sticks a circular part to the side of the ship. "Business. As mentors we need to start getting the tributes sponsors before the games."

"Is it nice there? I mean, they have a lot of technology." Joa says.

"They do, but Four is better. We have the ocean." Finnick responds.

Joa nods. "That's true. I don't think I would like all the extravagance. Plus, the Capitol people dress weird."

Finnick laughs and agrees. "They most certainly do."

Then, Joa's stomach gives a loud gurgling roar and he sheepishly smiles. "Guess my stomach agrees."

"Are you hungry?" Finnick asks.

"A bit. But we're going to the market tomorrow. I think Yurol has purposely letting the food run low and not buying a lot just so she can see Cameron." Joa replies.

Finnick stands up. "I'll be right back."

I'm a bit confused, but simply tell him. "Okay."

He closes the front door, and when he does, Joa comments. "He seems nice."

"So you like him?" I ask.

"Yeah. I haven't got to talk with Finnick that much, but I already like him. I liked him before now too. Throwing Kenin a surprise party was the deciding factor."

I smile. "Glad to hear. He's a good guy."

I watch Joa glue two pieces together, and he holds them together for several seconds before letting to. Then he grabs another piece and creates a triangle. When Joa's finished, he looks up a bit tentatively. "He makes you happy. Joln didn't."

This sort of shreds me because I feel bad, but it's the truth. "I'm not sure why I stayed with him. None of you liked him."

"It was nice to have someone there. But Joln didn't treat you right."

I sigh. "You can't hold Derek against him."

"Why not? It was his fault." Joa replies.

I shake my head. "What happened with Derek is Derek's fault. Not Joln's."

Joa disagrees. "Joln shouldn't have gotten mad so easily and let you walk out. I'm not trying to upset you Annie."

"I know."

"I just hold Joln responsible and that's how I see it. Right or wrong. I'll always hate Derek for what he did, but I also don't like Joln because he let you walk away." Joa explains.

I understandingly smile. "We each have our own opinion."

Joa returns my smile. "Exactly." He holds my eyes. "I really am glad you have Finnick."

"Thank you." I slowly say. "So what's new with you, hmm?" I ask. "I haven't got a chance to ask."

He tells me about how he and his friends caught an octopus, and even though a peacekeeper took it away, it was really fun. The octopus had been brown and sprayed them with ink. After they talked with a group of girls, and one of the girls asked Joa if he would be her date for the school dance. Yurol and I didn't really go to school, but Kenin and Joa who have the opportunity to go, taught us and Minul how to read and write several years ago.

Joa explains how while this girl is cute, he's actually interested in her friend. But he's going with the just cute girl to be nice. He has to wear a white shirt and black pants to the dance, nothing real fancy, just a bit more formal. Oh yeah, apparently this other girl likes him too, but sometimes he think it's because the girls want a chance to meet Kenin or Finnick since it's no secret he's with me and Joa lives with me. Sometimes it's annoying how people talk about how cool is must be that his brother is a victor because they don't see the damage, but there's nothing he can do about it so he just ignores it mostly.

Tomorrow, Joa is supposed to go over Marcus' house with Sam so they can get their fishing supplies together. And sure, the peacekeepers will take away all their fresh catch since they're not fishing for business in Four, but hey, it's a lot of fun. Maybe they'll catch a parrotfish, a surgeonfish, a moonfish, or any sort of fish, usually it's hard but not impossible.

I'm still holding the square piece while Joa's put together several parts when Finnick returns with a plate heaped with food. We were so busy talking the only thing that alerted us to Finnick's arrival was the amazing smell floating over to us. Hungrily Joa gapes at the plate which Finnick sets down in front of him.

"Here, eat up." Finnick tells Joa.

"This is for me?" Joa asks in surprise.

Finnick takes my hand in his and sits down. "Yup. Unless Annie wants some then I'll have to say you need to share."

I reach for the seafood pancake. "I am definitely having one of these."

"The rest is mine." Joa greedily claims pulling the plate towards him.

We chew in relish, and I notice this pancake is a bit different. "What's in here?"

Finnick is watching Joa basically swallowing pancake by pancake. "Shrimp, squid, brown kelp, a little bit of abalone."

"Thank you." I tell him through another bite. "It's delicious."

Joa vigorously nods and speaks through a mouthful. "Myah, iph fo amuzun."

I roll my eyes and swallow the food. "Real classy."

Now Joa rolls his eyes. "Wueva."

Finnick turns a piece of the model over between his hands and shyly accepts our compliments. "I'm glad you like it."

"I could eat this forever." Joa says with his mouth free of food. "You need to teach me how to cook like this. Then I could definitely eat this all the time and I would never run—"

The front door opens and Yurol walks in. "Why is the front door unlocked? Oh, hey Finnick."

"Hello Yurol. Aren't you out pass your bedtime?" he jokes.

This makes Yurol blush and she closes the door. "I don't have a bedtime Odair."

"You were out?" I ask. I turn to Joa. "Did you know she was out?"

"No, I thought she was in her bedroom." He replies.

"When did you go out? Were we not paying attention?" I'm seriously confused.

Yurol only turns redder as she approaches the table. "I've been out this whole time. I thought you guys knew that."

Finnick leans forward slightly pulling me with him since he won't let go of my hand. "Who were you with, hmm?"

She turns bright red and hastily smooths down her hair. "If you must know, I was with Cameron. Although it's not really a secret."

"Sure it isn't." he teases and presses his lips together while turning away.

Joa and I laugh because we know he's purposely trying to embarrass Yurol and it appears to be working. She gives a little 'hmph' before taking a seat and spreading her hands across the table. "Can't say I'm glad to have you back, although I'm sure Annie is. Where's Kenin?"

Finnick mockingly holds his chest. "Your scornful words leave deep wounds Yurol, but Annie can fix that with her kisses." And now I feel myself turn red as Yurol and Joa laugh. Finnick looks at me endearingly before turning back to Yurol. "Kenin's sleeping at my place. He's exhausted from our trip to the Capitol."

A flicker of disappointment passes over Yurol's face, but she manages a smile. "Well I'm glad you guys are back." She stands up and gathers her bag and sweater. "I'm going to sleep, it's late. Joa, bed."

"Aww, c'mon, I can stay up." He grumbles.

"No, you have school tomorrow. _Annie_ shouldn't have let you stay up this late." Yurol says.

"In all fairness, I thought you were here and letting him stay up." I defend.

Yurol laughs and walks behind Joa heading up the stairs. "You should know I would never do that. Goodnight Annie. Night Finnick."

Next to me, Finnick reaches for the plate of food but I beat him to it. "I'll put this away. You did more than enough." I let go of his hand, but before I go to the kitchen I ask. "Do you want one?"

"Nah, I already brushed my teeth." He replies.

Once I put the food away, I go to the stairs. "Make yourself comfortable on the couch. I need to brush my teeth too and all that."

I head up the stairs, floss, brush my teeth, do my business, wash my hands, brush the tangles from my hair, put on flowy pants that end at my calves, pullover a white long sleeved shirt, and grab a pillow from the closet. Finally I'm downstairs again where Finnick is lying down on the couch—it's really spacious with wide square pieces and a fluffy back support. His eyes are closed but open as I approach.

He eyes the pillow in my hand. "Do you intend to sleep next to me?"

It seemed so natural, but now that he's pointing it out, a flash of heat envelops me. "I, um, well—"

"Don't be shy, I'm just teasing." Finnick tells me and pats the space in front of him. As I take a seat with the pillow in my lap, he holds a piece of the long sleeved shirt between his fingers. "My shirt looks good on you."

"_Your_ shirt?" I question.

He nods. "Yeah. You borrowed my pants and shirt when you took a shower at my place that one night."

I remember. This means I've been wearing his shirt for the past few months. Suddenly the shirt has an entirely different feel. "I didn't realize this was yours."

"I like it better on you." Finnick tells me, his eyes getting smaller with sleep. "It's nice to see you wearing something of mine."

I set the pillow down next to his and this causes Finnick's eyes to flutter open. But I can see he is so tired, yet trying to stay awake, and I want him to get some rest. Very gently I run my fingers through the front of his hair and kiss his forehead. "Get some sleep. I'll be here in the morning. I promise."

Unable to fight the exhaustion, Finnick dreamily murmurs. "Sounds wonderful."

In seconds he falls asleep.

I lay down with my front facing his, but then realize I need to get up to turn off the lights, so I cautiously get off the couch, turn off the lights, then resume my previous position. The streetlights from outside fill the room with enough light that I can just make out Finnick, and I like it. I can still see the details of his face. Slowly, I position my right arm underneath my pillow and bring my left arm in front of me so my hand is near my face. It's enough distance to separate us, but close enough to bring together.

* * *

A soft moan arouses me from my sleep, and I become aware of how hot it is along with my left hand having a sensation of being wet. It takes a moment for my groggy brain to register that I am sleeping, or was sleeping, but am still on the couch with Finnick. A few hours must have passed since I fell asleep because there's no rising sunlight, but rather the streetlight allowing me to see.

In front, Finnick is covered in sweat and his face is tightly screwed shut. Beneath his eyelids, I can tell his eyes are rapidly flickering from side to side because I can see the little back and forth movements. He's dreaming, and it must be another nightmare. A suppressed whimper comes from his throat, and it may be unpleasant for Finnick, but I feel like I should rouse him from his sleep.

"Finnick." I whisper. "Finnick. It's Annie."

His eyes snap open so quickly that I flinch back a bit startled. There's sheer panic and dread screaming in those dark eyes. "Where am I?"

"On the couch in Kenin's house." I softly say. "You were having a nightmare."

"I didn't thrash around did I? Did I hurt you?" he sounds worried.

I shake my head and press my left hand to his slick chest that his revealed by his unbuttoned shirt. "No, no. You were just making sounds."

He breathes in deeply. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Are you okay?"

"Now that I know you're here with me." Finnick sincerely says. He puts a clammy hand over my hand pressed to his chest. "I'm not a very good person to sleep with. Literally. The other way, I'm one of the best. But literally, not so much." I know he's trying to vanquish the trembling inside.

For comfort, I give him a light peck. "You won't get rid of me so easily."

For comfort, he leans forward and softly presses his lips to mine. "I'm glad."

We kiss for a bit, but not for long because it's not the right time. Whatever nightmare Finnick was having pertains to his past and it won't leave his mind so easily. As he brushes the hair out of my face, I ask. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I want to forget. The problem is, I don't." he replies, his thumb stroking my cheek. "No matter how much you want to move on, it won't let you."

"Maybe because you need to share it instead of keeping it bottled up. That usually helps me." I tell him.

Finnick remains quiet for a very long time, his eyes fixed on our entwined hands. He's tired, but alert. Thinking and sorting through the wreckage playing in his mind. I'm watching him when his eyes finally flicker up to meet mine. "I was in another Hunger Games, except it was here in Four. But it wasn't really Four because the only people from Four were me and my parents. We were near the end, any family members could be victors as long as they were the last family standing.

Then the scene changed and my parents were lying face down on the rocks. All I could do was watch. They were bleeding and I saw the blood run into the ocean turning the waves red. A loud howling began to fill the air and I was in another arena. Another game had begun. And all the tributes I killed were there surrounding me in a circle. Then you woke me up."

I wrap my left leg around Finnick's waist and scoot closer to him. "What does it mean to you?"

He buries his face in my hair and softly says. "The nightmares always mean something terrible. I can't escape my past." He inhales deeply. "My parents were found dead on the rocks. I have this memory, it's only a glimpse, but I do remember seeing them lying face up on the rocks with blood streaming into the ocean. That's the only thing I know. After that, I was sent to the community homes and never asked what happened. I've never wanted to know. And no one told me."

"Does it bother you?" I whisper. "Not knowing."

"More so as I got older." Finnick admits. "But what's the point in knowing? What good does it do?"

"It can provide closer. It did when I found out what happened with my family." I tell him.

Finnick sighs and he sounds so broken. "I can't. I've avoided it for so long, I can't just ask the community homes what happened."

I press my lips to his throat. "If you decide someday you want to find out, I can be there for you too. All you need to do is just ask and I will be there."

"Thank you." He whispers into my hair.

I can feel Finnick's body obviously relax, and he falls asleep again. His skin is slightly sticky, but it's significantly cooler and I feel myself growing tired once more. My leg is still wrapped around him, and Finnick's face is still pressed into my hair. It must look like a racy scene and no doubt Yurol will give us a rude awakening, but we will know this has been an innocent night.

No matter what Finnick has done or has been through, though he may disagree, he has the ability to capture innocence and purity.

* * *

_Finnick POV_

A shrill scolding jolts me awake in a panic, and I see Yurol glaring at me. "In my house Finnick? You have your own house!"

Annie untangles herself from my body, and rolls over to see Yurol. Her curtain of hair falls from my face and now I can see Yurol clearly. Annie sits up and leans against my stomach as I stay down. "What are you talking about Yurol?"

"And you Annie, I thought you would have suggested going to his house. You never did this so publicly with Joln." Yurol furiously says.

Annie runs a hand through her hair, but it gets caught in a tangle. As she attempts to break the knot, she responds. "Yurol, we just slept on the same couch. We didn't have sex."

Yurol's face falls and she looks embarrassed at her implication now. "What?"

"We literally slept together. Nothing more." Annie responds.

Quickly Yurol backs away and disappears into the living room. "Sorry. Forget I interrupted."

I put my hand to Annie's back and she faces me. "She sure knows how to give a rude awakening."

"It's Yurol." Annie laughs.

Something Yurol says hits me now. And I feel my stomach churn. I have to ask. "Yurol said…you never did this publicly with Joln when she thought we had sex…"

Annie fully turns her body to me and takes my hand. "Are you asking me if Joln and I had sex?"

I can't stop myself from nodding. "I suppose I am."

"We did." Annie tells me. My expression must have changed because Annie asks. "Are you jealous Finnick?"

"It would seem so." I try to say in a steady voice.

"How can you be jealous?" Annie asks.

I don't mean to, but I give a scornful laugh and turn my face away. "How can I be jealous when I'm Finnick Odair and have slept with numerous women?"

Annie puts a hand to my chin, and slowly makes me face her again. "No," she slowly says, "how can you be jealous when I'm yours?"

_I'm yours. I'm yours._ The phrase rings in my head filling me with euphoria. She is with me, no one else, me. Annie is saying she is mine. I am hers too. Feeling foolish for my jealousy, I pull myself up and gently kiss Annie. Memorizing the feel of her lips. Basking in the warmth of knowing we are together and not with anyone else. I'm so ecstatic I even manage to push away the guilt I feel for my latter thought. I am hers in the only way that should count even if I may not be able to be hers physically.

Annie's lips part and a small moan escapes. I'm not sure who it came from because I too am losing myself in our kiss. Slow, rhythmic, deep, long, hungry, patient. Very slowly, Annie pushes me back so my head is on the pillow again, and she's half lying on me. Both her hands are pressed to my chest, her hair falling down into my face surrounding our kiss with a curtain of dark brown.

I try really hard—I really do—to keep my hands planted firmly at my sides, but then I feel my long sleeved shirt between my fingers. Annie tilts her head moving into our kiss and I can feel her bare back along my fingertips. My hands are wandering, and I am not in control. A great burning sears my insides and I feel like I am going to sizzle in the flames and melt into the couch. It's so hot, and each touch from Annie's now wandering hands inflames my pores reaching down to the deep muscle fibers. I can't take it anymore without doing much much more to Annie.

My muscles scream in pain as I let out a tormented groan and gently push her shoulders away from me to separate our lips. Annie immediately settles back and takes a seat in front as I pull myself up once more. My shoulders are hunched over as I softly say with my head down. "I need to let my body cool off."

To help me, Annie takes away her hands and makes sure her legs aren't in contact with any part of my body. "Would it help if I whispered seductive things in your ear?" Okay, maybe she's not trying to help. She leans forward and slowly says. "When our skin is pressed together the heat and warmth of a deep throbbing, pulsating desire burns through my most intimate of—"

Laughing, I cover her mouth with my hand and playfully scold. "You need to behave yourself or you'll only get us both into trouble."

I love the way her laugh rings in all the rooms. Annie pushes my hand away. "See, not so fair to make sexual implications when the other person isn't up for it."

"Alright, alright, point taken. When I used to make sexual jokes it wasn't fair for you."

"Used to?" she exclaims. "Last night you were talking about how kissing me would heal your wounds."

"They do." I seriously reply.

Annie smiles and kisses my cheek. "Here's one to help you behave your body then."

She stands up, but my body is flushed with heat again. "Thanks, but that actually made it worse."

"C'mon silly boy, you'll survive." Annie tells me walking into the kitchen.

I don't exactly calm my body, but I do what I can to cover my excitement. "I'm coming."

I walk into the kitchen with a blanket in my arms, and Annie eyes the blanket. "Nice."

"This is your fault." I refute.

I see a dangerous twinkle in her eyes as Annie eyes the blanket more suggestively, but she must see my pained expression because the fire dies down into a flame. "Alright, I'll play fair."

"Thank you." I say. "Don't exactly want Yurol seeing this."

"Seeing what?" a voice asks from the kitchen entrance. Yurol is standing in the entrance with her arms crossed. "Hiding something with the blanket Odair?"

Yurol's eyes flicker to Annie, and they burst out laughing. Their voices echo in the kitchen and for the first time, I experience, what must be a small wave of embarrassment. I'm really not a shameful guy, I mean, how could I be with what I do? But here in their kitchen, my happiness _there_ is not something I feel like I should proudly show off. If anything, it is only meant for Annie when/if the time comes. So yes, I am a bit embarrassed.

Annie walks over and gives me a hug ignoring the blanket. "We're just teasing. I'm sure it's much to be proud of."

This makes me experience another wave of embarrassment, and Yurol dryly says. "Gross."

Annie shrugs and lets me go so she can look in the fridge. I turn to Yurol. "I'm never going to catch a break with you am I?"

"Not really." Yurol agrees.

"She likes you." Annie comments from the fridge. "Why is there no food in here?"

"There's food." Yurol indignantly says.

Annie pushes the door open so we can all see. "A bag of seaweed does not count." She exasperatedly sighs and closes the door. "If you want to see Cameron, all you have to do is go there. You don't need an excuse."

"I'm not making excuses." Yurol lies. "I just…don't buy a lot of food at once now."

"Right…" Annie sarcastically replies. "Fine, Finnick and I will go out to eat. Unless you have other plans?" she says now considering I wasn't included in this sudden decision.

I slowly tell her. "We can go out to eat, but I was supposed to meet Mags at the community center."

Annie asks surprised. "The community center? That's where potential volunteers train."

I nod. "It is."

"Oh." Annie replies understanding. "I didn't know you and Mags went there."

"We are victors." I gently say. "We help them get ready. I don't like it, but if it'll possibly save their lives, it's worth it."

Yurol takes a step forward slightly intrigued. "Will Kenin be going? I mean, I don't think it would be a good idea considering his victory is so recent."

I shake my head. "I don't know. It's up to him."

She bites her lips but knows it's useless to say anything more. I can't force Kenin to do one thing or another, and Yurol won't demand it of him like how she does with Joa. Annie sees Yurol's distress and asks. "Can I come and watch? Especially if Kenin goes, at least I'll be there with him."

Yurol's face slightly lights up at this suggestion, and I don't think it's such a bad idea myself. "Sure. I'd love to have you there." Also a lot of girls just come to the community center so they can spend time with me or watch me, and now that I'm with Annie, it would feel weird.

"Let me get ready." Annie says. "I'll be done in like fifteen minutes."

"Girls." I playfully mutter while shaking my head.

Annie laughs and gives me an unexpected kiss. I don't care that Yurol is here, so I put my hand on Annie's lower back and hold her close to me. Waking up to this completely prepares me for the rest of my day. I'm not sure how I got through my darkest times without this sort of intimate company.

Annie pulls back and gives me a quick peck before exiting the kitchen, sort of awkwardly leaving me with Yurol who hasn't taken her eyes off me. Her lips are drawn into a tight line, but after a few seconds she relaxes her face. "You make her very happy. As her best friend, I'll always be a bit overprotective, but I actually like you Odair." I think I'm off the hook because Yurol begins to walk away, and then she adds. "Don't do anything to make me change my mind, because, I'll kill you. Have fun today." She ends in a girly voice.

I smile because their loyalty to each other is what being a family should look like.

* * *

Annie is finishing her seaweed breakfast wrap when we walk into the community center along with Kenin who decided to come. Numerous girls turn their heads excitedly and a part of me feels sick thinking about how they're coming here to train to kill just so they can see Kenin and I. They all look disappointed as they turn their eyes to my hand holding Annie's. A dozen of them look pissed because I have slept with them and never settled down with them like I have with Annie.

Of course, and thankfully, Annie appears oblivious or ignores their glares very well because she keeps smiling and eats her breakfast. "Where's Mags?"

"In the survival room. I help in the fighting room." I tell her.

"And that is?" she asks.

"The one we're in now." I reply. In a loud voice, I announce to the various teenagers. "Okay, you can bring out the weapons and shields."

Eagerly, more so than the girls, the guys hustle and begin rolling in the carts of weapons while the girls are more content with hanging around and glancing our way. There must be forty people or so in this room. The floor is concrete, some areas covered in blue mats for cushioning, and the grey walls aren't extremely inviting. But it's what we have unlike One and Two who have luxurious community centers for their Careers. Four isn't as dedicated to producing Careers as the first two districts are.

Annie steps to the side and takes a seat on one of the few empty chairs meant for bystanders. A group of girls are surrounding her, and all I can do is hope they don't talk about my recent Capitol visit. Although, all of them appear to busy with watching me than to make conversation. I direct my attention back to the group of teenagers. Some of them will be Careers, most of them are preparing just in case they get reaped.

They're lined up in rows of five awaiting further instruction. I softly say to Kenin. "You can help Mags in the survival room."

I expect him to agree because fighting was never his strong suit, but instead he shakes his head. "I want to stay here."

"Alright." I reply. In a loud voice, I begin. "As I always say with each session, you must be at least skilled with various weapons and your own hands. Why is this?"

All of them raise their hands, and I point to a brown haired boy with darker eyes. "You never know what they will provide at the Cornucopia or if you'll be able to obtain a weapon."

"Right. And why is offense more important than defense?" I ask.

I point to a blonde with bright red lips. "Because if you can kill your opponent first they can't kill you?"

Only a few aren't surprised when I say, "Wrong." The girl looks hurt I disagreed. Seriously, girls sometimes. "Offense is never more important than defense. Both are equally important. No matter how good you are, not all of your attacks will succeed in killing another tribute, and when they strike, you need to be able to defend yourself. An offensive approach is not always best."

I continue with a few more questions before telling them to partner up with someone they don't know of the opposite sex for one on one combat. When everyone has settled down and there's a group of three, I tell them. "If anyone wants to challenge me, now is the time."

Four boys and one girl step up, and then from my side I hear Kenin. "I want to too."

I turn to him and see disbelief on Annie's face who is leaning forward from her chair in the background. I lower my voice. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"You think I can't handle it?" he says a bit defensively.

"No, well, that too. But I can't fight you in front of Annie." I say. "It'll distract me because I'll be thinking about her watching me hurt you."

Unafraid, Kenin calls to Annie without looking over his shoulder. "Annie, you are not allowed to get mad at Finnick for hurting me. _If_ he can."

Several people snicker because it seems like it's coming to a victor on victor showdown. Nervously, Annie quietly replies. "Okay."

"Alright then." I say. "This will be interesting."

Kenin nods. "Yes it will."

I tell Kenin. "Alright. Three carts of weapons will be on the wall opposite of us spaced at intervals, and we won't know what the trainees have put inside. You're only allowed to have your foot two feet away from the wall with your other foot pressed up against it. This is supposed to be like the space provided on the platform. We'll both be in the corners of the room on the other side from the cart. When someone counts down from three, we run to the opposite wall, grab whatever weapon, and begin fighting. It's the best we can do to mimic the Cornucopia."

"Got it." Kenin replies.

Kenin and I go to the corners of the long side of the room, and have to close our eyes as the trainees choose the weapons to put into the carts. When they announce they're finished, we open our eyes. I see a spear sticking out of the cart closest to Kenin, and the hilt of a sword in the middle cart. Nothing visible sticks out of the cart closest to me which means it's filled with short weapons; these teenagers trying to give me a hard time.

We each have one foot in the corner, and our other foot extended as far as we're allowed. Someone calls, "Three, two, one!"

Immediately I sprint to the other side of the room, and I see Kenin only a few steps behind. I run diagonally towards the second cart, and turn around just as Kenin approaches. My hands forcefully, but far more gently than if this were a real arena, hit him in the chest causing him to fall back. I grab the sword and swing it in an arc bringing it to a stop at Kenin's throat while he's still lying a bit stunned on the mats.

Very lightly, I drag it across his throat. "You're dead."

Kenin is red faced and breathing hard. "Guess it was a good thing I joined the Careers."

"I'm glad you did." I tell him holding out my hand.

Kenin grabs it tightly and lets me haul him up. "I am too."

I turn around and tell the group. "Lets give him a round of applause."

The girls enthusiastically clap while the guys give a more respectful clap. While Kenin did win by a game of the mind, he is still a victor. Annie is clapping too although she looks a bit worried. At least she's not giving me a look of horror for obviously hurting Kenin because if she were I'd probably have to call quits to this whole training program. Annie's eyes meet mine, and I feel at ease when she gives a smile.

Next is the only girl to challenge me. Her name is, Helena or something with an H, whatever it is, she is rather decent. She's about sixteen, and when I've talked to her, she said she only trains just in case she gets reaped. Apparently she has a younger sister to take care of.

We position ourselves against the wall after the trainees have changed the weapons in the cart, and Kenin calls. "Three, two, one."

H sprints to the carts, but I'm faster. I get to the cart closest to her with a spear, and as I yank it out to swing back, she ducks down and smacks the pole with her hand sending the spear through the air. She punches me in the chest and I stumble back in which time she cartwheels to the spear lying several feet away. With the little time I have, I blindly reach for another weapon, grabbing a club. H already has her arm drawn back having released the spear in my direction.

As I knock it out of the way with the club, she cartwheels to the furthest cart from me and gets her hands on a sword. Unexpectedly, H flips backwards onto her hands, and pushes off the ground with such force that she sends her body flying through the air, legs extended and slams her feet into my abdomen; which actually hurts a lot. I hold onto my club as I fly backwards and roll to my feet bringing my club just in time to block a swipe with H's sword.

H's mistake is that she is still on offense and trying to push her sword down allowing my right hand to spring forward and grab her hands. I quickly let go of the club in my left, now getting both my hands around hers. Very forcefully, I shove her hands back, twists them a bit so the flat part of the sword now faces her, and smack the flat metal against her forehead.

I hold onto her hands just so she won't fall, but when H has steadied her self, I release my grip. "The sword's sharp side would have actually buried into your entire face."

H nods. "What did I do wrong? I was so sure I had you."

"That was the problem." I tell her. To the entire class I announce. "When you think you are guaranteed to kill someone, sometimes it clouds your judgment and prevents you from seeing a possible move a tribute can do. As I said, being on offense the entire time can be disadvantageous." To H, I explain. "When you saw that your sword wasn't going to hurt me, you should have pulled back and repositioned for another offensive move. Giving yourself space is in a way being on the defense. Having your sword pressed against my club or any weapon in general, gives such a close proximity that if you don't change your moves, whoever has the greater strength has the greater chance of winning. You've lost the element of surprise on that attack by that point."

"I understand." H says. "Thank you."

I nod and smile. "Of course." I turn to the boys. "So, who's next?"

* * *

Nearly three and a half hours later after everyone's had some one on one combat, we take a lunch break. The trainees usually eat in the rooms they spend most of their time in, or go outside, and we, the mentors, eat on the lawn outside which is on a hill that gives us a view of the ocean.

Mags has a blanket stretched across the grass, but there's only room for three people. Annie suggests. "I can sit between your legs."

I do my best to keep my voice steady. "Alright."

It doesn't fool anyone. Kenin rolls his eyes and Mags raises her eyebrows. I stare ahead at the ocean to ignore their looks as I take a seat in the middle next to Mags. Annie stands between my legs and takes a seat scooting back so we lessen the distance between us. And Kenin takes a seat on my left, shaking his head.

"I only made one sandwich a bowl of soup. I didn't realize we would have two more to feed." Mags says.

"We brought our own food." Kenin tells Mags holding up a bag of food we bought for him and Annie.

Playfully, Annie asks. "You have Mags make your meal? Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

I lean forward and Annie's right cheek. "Silly girl, Mags is like my mom. She has to feed me."

Mags scoffs. "Has to? I should let him starve during these training sessions."

"But you would never do that." I laugh and kiss Mags on her left cheek.

She swats me away with a gummy grin. "No I suppose I couldn't. He does cook me amazing pies every week."

Annie looks over her shoulder. "You bake?"

"There's a lot that I do. You'll see soon enough."

Kenin groans. "Please do not tell me that was a sexual comment."

Both Annie and I experience a wave of embarrassment. I quickly stammer. "No, it wasn't. I meant, I do a lot of different things and you know what, get your mind out of there. That is not what I meant."

"Finnick ashamed? Noo…" Mags feigns in astonishment.

Everyone begins to laugh as I grin and shake my head. "I never catch a break."

"No you don't." Mags says to me as she hands me my sandwich.

Kenin passes Annie some seaweed crisps and the salty, green tinted, fish shaped rolls. They also bought a bag of preserved fruits: dried berries, apricots, and some green things. We eat in silence with the ocean before us. The sun is above beating down on us, but it illuminates the sea with the glittering of reflecting light. It's a beautiful view, and I can forget the bad. Mags, my only family, is here. Kenin, who I feel responsible for is. And Annie. My beautiful, unpredictable, understanding Annie Cresta. This moment is absolutely perfect.

I've finished my sandwich and put both my arms around Annie's shoulder as she stares at the ocean. We don't move for awhile, and I notice Mags and Kenin have left. I look around and see the community center backdoor slightly jarred open. Enough so the door won't lock on us, but it's the privacy which is so hard to come by in public.

I kiss the curve of Annie's shoulder, and she tilts her head back. "This is an amazing view."

"It is." I agree. "At the community homes I used to stare at the ocean from the sleeping quarter's window. When I turned six, I immediately signed up for ocean training to go fishing just so I could be near the water."

"Is that when you began to learn how to use a net and trident?" she quietly asks.

I lower my voice too. "Yes."

Annie reaches back, and accidently almost pokes my eye. "Sorry!" she gently feels for my cheek, then comfortingly drags her fingertips across my skin. "You didn't intend to use what you learned to kill the people you did Finnick. It just came to your advantage later."

"It did save my life. The community homes don't let you officially train at the center. Whatever skills you acquire must be done so through jobs." I say.

"You've spent nearly your entire life at sea." Annie states.

"I have."

She turns around crossing her legs, and I do the same so I'm not awkwardly sitting here with my legs spread apart. "Tell your favorite thing about being out at sea."

I look behind Annie to watch the shimmering surface with the visible wave patterns. The water is a bright blue and I imagine the coolness of it soaking my entire body. The salty taste slightly burning my lips, tongues, and eyes. How it would feel to sit in my boat and feel the rhythmic bobbing as waves passed beneath. The way it feels to see the utter endless stretch of sky and water in front and you know you're nothing but a tiny speck in a vast body of water which encompasses earth. You're so insignificant in something so immense.

I bring my eyes to Annie. "The ocean is the only place man has not decimated to build cities. That sort of nature is impossible to control. So it's pure. Nature at its finest."

"You can get away from the rest of Panem." Annie says.

"That too. But it's just incredible to be out at sea. Diving beneath the water, out on my boat, sitting on the docks making nets or fishing. I just love to be near it. Four is my home, and I associate the ocean with Four. It's what makes our distinction from the other districts and make us who we are." I go on. "I'm a fish out of water."

Annie giggles. "Well I can't have that. I need you to become my Finnick again. The handsome young man."

With a goofy face, I make fish lips and pucker. "I need a kiss from a beautiful girl to turn me back."

She wrinkles her nose and shakes her head with a smile. "You're so silly."

"I'm still a fish." I respond.

Annie leans forward and kisses me. I release my lips from their odd puckering shape, and let my lips move with hers. I hold the side of Annie's jaw in my palm, and let my thumb rest on her cheek. For a few seconds I hold our kiss still before leaning in one more time and then pulling my head back. My forehead is pressed to her, our noses faintly touching.

Both our eyes are closed because I can feel Annie's eyelashes tickling my face. She softly asks. "Has my Finnick come back?"

"I'm back." I tell her. "And I never want to be apart from you."

"I would like that very much." Annie says. She pulls her head back and looks me in my now open eyes. "Please don't ever leave."

I put my hands to her knees. "I'll be here for you always."

We're promising forever in an uncertain future, but neither of us care because we have faith. She is everything I want, and somehow I am what she wants. It's not often you find a person so compatible beyond words. And I am done questioning what is my blessing and happiness. I accept it and couldn't be more grateful.

Annie smiles, turns around, gently tugs at my legs to pull apart, and leans back into my chest. I hold her in my arms, my chin resting on her shoulder, left side of my face pressed to her right, and entwine my hands with hers. It's the best moment of my life when I've watched the ocean, here, with Annie Cresta in the envelopment of my embrace. We sigh in great content and keep our eyes to the horizon.

* * *

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

..

.

thanks for reading!


	19. Chapter 19: Near the Right Time

**hello, hello. thank you for the reviews and for keeping up with my story! here's chapter 19, and i'll start working on 20 soon. **

**enjoy**

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen: Near the Right Time**

_Annie POV_

"What!" I exclaim a bit too loudly.

"Annie, it's done." Binsen tells me. "I fired Joln the night he got into the fight with Finnick."

I shake my head in disbelief. "Why didn't I know this?"

"Because you didn't come into work. I thought you would be glad to hear this." Binsen says slightly surprised.

My head is spinning and I have to grip the kitchen sink to steady myself. The metal is cold in my hand. It feels as if the air has dropped several degrees although I know it's warm by the humidity making my hair frizz. There are empty shells carelessly thrown into a garbage bag on the floor. A few gnats circle around as if unable to decide when or where to land. Everything about this kitchen is familiar. And we may have been over, but Joln was a part of this familiarity. The good and the bad.

Nausea begins to rise at the back of my throat. To keep it down, I try to swallow. After a few breaths, I manage to say. "You can't fire him."

Binsen eyes me confoundedly. "He attacked Finnick."

"So you did that because Finnick is our _best_ customer?" I ask loudly.

"No, I did that because Finnick is with you and Joln should have controlled his spirits and temper." Binsen replies obviously.

"You can't fire him for _my_ benefit." I say in exasperation. "Joln needs this job."

Confidently, Binsen states. "There are other jobs out there. I can't keep employees who attack co-worker's friends or whoever, let alone loyal customers too."

I counter. "You know I slapped Finnick, why haven't you fired me?"

A loud sigh comes from Binsen's lips. "Annie, just let it go, okay? I'm not changing my mind. And I'm not firing you."

Tears well in my eyes as I bite my lip but hold my tongue. Though we've never said it, I know Binsen has considered me his daughter, and I considered him another dad aside from Yurol's. Because of this relationship, he's let me live in the room above, get away with certain things like taking time off, and he's been waiting for an excuse to fire Joln. No one really seems to realize that while Joln didn't treat me well all the time, I wasn't fair to him either.

I'm so upset that I turn on my heels and rush out of the kitchen. We're on our break between when we close after lunch and open up for dinner so I run into an empty front. Yurol has already gone off with Cameron, and Finnick should be waiting outside. But I don't want him to see me like this; upset over Joln. So I go out the other door which leads to the opposite outside from where Finnick is probably waiting for me, and I take off.

For several yards soft grass gets trampled under my foot and it's such a different texture than what I'm used to running on. In no time though, I'm running on the gravel road. Dust kicks up and rocks seem to crunch against each other as I keep running and running. The normally breezy air feels like wind in my ears blocking out sounds which come but pass by so quickly. Soon I can hear my blood pumping and my chest gets tight. I have to remember to breathe because I've been holding my breath for long intervals between inhaling.

No matter what, when I run without thinking about it or actually knowing where I'm going, I always end up here. At the cliffs which overlook the sea. Various boats dot the water and the few people on each boat look like tiny moving specks. For some reason, this place always brings immense comfort. Maybe it's the way your feet dangle over the edge of a sheer drop that would bring an inevitable death. Taunting the lines between safety and danger. Maybe it's the ability to see the bigger picture versus big close ups of a smaller view. You feel in control up here.

My whole body shakes with a coming sob, and I don't have to mute my distress. I feel so guilty for Joln getting fired. He loves me. It's the only reason he fought with Finnick. I may have not loved Joln, but I did care about him. Not in the way he wanted, but in a way that still means something to me. Now he's lost his job because of me.

Several cries get caught in my throat and I raise my right hand to my chest with my fingertips barely touching my left collarbone. I close my eyes and many tears splash onto my arm and thighs. The pain is distorting my facial expression as I let out another sob. Both my shoulders heavily heave with unsteady breaths.

I knew Joln would be fine without me. It seemed like only a matter of time before things would end, and I was sure he would move on. He didn't need me. So I didn't feel too bad when things were over. But Joln needed his job. He used the money he made towards paying for his own place as well as helping his parents support themselves. They haven't lived together for a few years, but he'd been giving them money ever since he moved out. It was a responsibility he willingly took on and never complained of its burden. But all I can do now is hope he finds a job soon if he hasn't found one already.

Maybe that's not all I can do.

I wipe away my tears and inhale deeply to clear my clogged nose. My eyes must be swollen because I can feel the puffiness every time I blink. But it doesn't matter. There's only one thing I have to do.

* * *

The front door opens and I lower my hand from it's raised knocking position. Joln stares at me in disbelief. "Annie?"

"Joln." I say as my unsaid, hey.

He sees my puffy eyes and a flicker of hope shines in his eyes. "Did something happen with you and Finnick?"

The hope dies when I say. "No. I wanted to talk to you though."

"About what?" Joln replies a bit brusquely.

"Us. You getting fired. You deserve the answers to what you want to know." I tell him.

His eyes flicker behind me, and he nods his head over his left shoulder. "Fine. Come inside."

I step inside and Joln closes the door behind me. I've been here countless times so it's natural I remember where everything should be. Several dishes pushed into the corner of the kitchen counter near the sink. Dish rags hanging from fishing hooks on the wall. A wooden table with two chairs pushed against the wall. His screen propped up on a small crate.

But none of it's here. The only indication that Joln lives here are the five boxes stacked into a pyramid. I look around several times, just in case I've gone blind, but nothing changes. In shock, I ask. "Where's all your stuff?"

Joln looks around with anger. "Had to pack it up. I can't afford to live here anymore."

"Joln…" I reply, my voice cracking.

"What did you want to say to me Annie?" he asks annoyed at my pity.

But I feel too terrible to say anything and I just cover my mouth with a hand in distress. My fingers curl into a half-circle and stay pressed to my lips. This is too much. The consequences are too severe. He shouldn't have gotten fired because of me, but to lose his house? This should not be happening.

I close my eyes and tears run down my face soaking my fingers. That wet snuffling sound of suppressed cries is the only noise in this room. My eyes are still closed as Joln puts a hand on my back and softly says. "What's done is done Annie. And that's that."

He lets me cry and helps me sit down because I refuse to remove my hand or open my eyes. My head has gotten extremely light and it's harder to breathe so I know if I don't calm down soon I will pass out. I focus on gaining control of my cries and forcing them to stop. Several minutes later, I succeed.

Joln is watching me when I open my eyes. I see the hurt and anger, but also the confusion and want. After a few shaky breaths, I finally speak. "I should have been fair to you and left a long time ago."

"Why didn't you?" he asks, the pain evident.

My eyes look up to the left and I shake my head at my foolishness. "I thought I could love you." I say looking back at him. "I really did. I thought, maybe it would just happen one day."

Joln is hurt. "I thought you did love me. Just, you never said it allowed."

"It was never the love that counted." I admit. "You deserve better."

"Is that what you thought for yourself?"

I shake my head despite Joln expecting otherwise. "There were a lot of things that lead up to Finnick and I happening."

Joln sighs and clenches his fist. He doesn't say anything as he chooses his words. Nearly a long, silent minute passes before he looks at me again. "I hate seeing you with him."

"I know." I quietly say.

"He's going to hurt you." Joln tells me. "How can you be so blind Annie? It's all over the screens, and yet you stay with him as if your loyalty means anything to him. You thought you deserved better but Finnick Odair is not the guy you're supposed to be with."

I look him in the eyes. "I don't care what the screens say Joln, you don't know him how I do. He's different."

Joln emphatically laughs with bitterness. "No he's not. Honestly, you really think he's going to settle down with you just because he's spent more time with you here in Four? While in the Capitol he—"

"You don't know what goes on in the Capitol, Joln." I cut him off remembering how defeated Finnick looked after his return. "I didn't come here to talk about Finnick, especially to hear you say what a mistake you think I'm making."

In frustration, Joln scoffs. "Fine. I thought you had more self respect though."

I let it pass because Joln has many reasons to be upset. "I came here to tell you I'm sorry."

"Well that just makes everything better, doesn't it?" he retorts still worked up from his rant about Finnick.

"No, my apology doesn't do anything. I just thought you should know." I say standing up taking this as my cue to leave.

Joln stands up and opens the door. "Tell me one thing Annie, why Finnick? What makes him so great despite everything you know? _Especially_ knowing what you do."

I step outside and face him. "Finnick makes me happy."

"That's what they all think." Joln says with a hint of sadness, and he closes the door without waiting for a response.

* * *

I'm walking back to the Victors' Village, because it's a few more hours until we open for our dinner shift, when I see Yurol holding hands with Cameron. They're standing outside a pastry shop, looking at the various delicacies on display. As I remember so well when we were children, Yurol has one hand pressed up to the glass. Sweets have always been her comfort food. It's why every year after the reaping, we would go to the Sweet Shop. Well, except this past year.

She's with Cameron enjoying their time together and undoubtedly doesn't want to be embarrassed. Of course; that's only natural. So this means I _have_ to sneak up behind her. They're talking about something which only makes this all the more perfect. Yurol's vocal chords are in full motion.

I crouch so she won't see me in the window's reflection, and I very slowly creep up on her. Animated sentences are flying out of Yurol's mouth as she yammers on about all the different flavors, and I grab her sides from behind with a significant amount of force. No one is really prepared for the scream Yurol gives. I almost swear the corner of the window cracks just a bit when she screams. Shrill, loud, piercing, deafening.

Yurol has spun around with such velocity, Cameron staggers when her hand rips out of his. Heart racing, Yurol hisses. "Annie!"

"Hey." I cheerfully say.

Then she leans forward and studies my face. "Were you crying?" she asks concerned, all anger gone.

I feel my eyes and look in the reflection. It's hard to see, but if I can tell my eyes are puffy from this poor quality image, it must be pretty bad. "Oh, yeah."

"I am going to kill him!" Yurol fiercely exclaims. "Where is he!"

"Packing his stuff. It's not his fault." I try to defend. "I just felt really guilty."

Yurol's anger struggles with confusion. "Packing his stuff? Why would you feel guilty?"

I glance at Cameron who looks slightly bewildered as to what to do. Stay or go? He catches me observing him, and he decides to become extremely interested in the pastry displays again. I look at the pastries too. "Because, Joln got fired for getting into the fight with Finnick and now he can't afford his place. You know he gives money to his parents."

"Joln?" Yurol emphatically questions. "We're not talking about Finnick?"

"No." I almost laugh. "Why would we be?"

"Because you're crying." Yurol states.

I sort of exclaim. "Not because of _Finnick_. No, he's so sweet. I'm talking about Joln."

"Oh." Yurol says. "I thought you knew Joln got fired."

"You knew?" I ask incredulously.

"Well, yeah. He hasn't been at work the past few days. Binsen told me he fired Joln the night of Kenin's party."

I look at Yurol and comprehend this. Did everyone know except me? I'm not sure what to say, so I tell Yurol. "I went to see him."

"Joln?" I nod. "Is that why you're crying?"

This makes my throat burn. "Yeah. I feel so guilty."

Yurol bites her lower lip because I know she wants to say something along the lines of: you shouldn't, Joln deserved it, how can you feel bad for him when he never treated you right, it's not like we didn't see this coming. I'm so grateful Yurol keeps the opinions, I already know she has, to herself. She thinks for a moment to find new words. While she's thinking, Yurol glances at Cameron who has been fascinated with a pink pastry for the past few minutes.

She turns back to me. "Wanna get some pastries?"

I nod.

Cameron looks up and tentatively asks. "Am I invited?"

"Of course." Yurol laughs and takes his hand.

Cameron takes the lead and opens the green, narrow door. One by one we file through the two foot wide entrance and find ourselves in a room filled with pastries. There are metal racks with wide metal sheets carrying baked goods in every slot. Many of the sheets have empty spaces because people have already consumed a great number of these savory treats, but there's still a lot left for us to choose from. What you don't get a whiff of from outside is the _smell_. It is incredible! Each time I breathe, I inhale deeply so I can really fill my nose with the delicious aromas. That rich, freshly baked smell completely overtakes your senses.

I open my mouth believing if I can just get a taste of what I'm smelling, I'll know what pastry to choose. In front of me are these fluffy, circular, golden pastries designed with an X to create spaces between the dough for a bright red jelly. Beneath this nearly empty sheet are flat bottomed, but round topped, light brown, powdered sugar coated pastries about the size of a fairly large pebble. They're meant to be popped into the mouth and chewed with relish.

The metal rack next to me has hard, crystal sugar sprinkled, cone-shell shaped pastries filled with various creams of light yellow, pink, light green, light blue, dark and light brown, a tinge of purple. The length of the dough shell is about as long as my forefinger. I look around and can hardly believe there are a dozen more racks filled with different pastries on each sheet.

I walk around the middle row of racks, and go over to Yurol who is standing in front of a metal rack with thick, square pastries designed with four seed shaped holes towards the center. The seed shapes form a broken X and within these holes are dark purple fillings. Yurol picks two up and puts them into a box with several other pastries. Cameron is holding a plain, brown cookie.

I can't help but laugh because they seem so different in this area of preferences. "Think you need more?"

"I've barely begun choosing." Yurol tells me. For what must be the first time, Yurol notices us. "Where are your pastries?"

"I didn't choose yet." I say.

Yurol looks at Cameron and his cookie. "Is that all you're getting?"

Cameron casually says. "It's all I can afford."

"Don't be silly." She tells him. "We buy a box for one price and whatever can fit inside is what we get. Choose more."

He tries to defer; to not seem like a freeloader, out of shame, or both, I don't know. Or Cameron simply thinks it's not fair for Yurol to pay for his food. "It's fine, really." She just looks at him. "Fine." He surrenders putting the cookie into the box. "But I'm making it up to you."

Yurol smiles. "That's my plan."

They laugh and look through more metal racks. I watch from where I am and appreciate what I see. There's this life in Yurol that I haven't seen in so long. She literally seems to be glowing because happiness radiates from every move of her body. Each hand-over-mouth laughter bounces with life, and the joy shines in her normally dull green eyes. Her black hair seems alive as she flicks it over her shoulder and leans in to look at some tarts.

Yurol is happy. Happy. For her, it hasn't been so easy to come by. I mean, things were better than they were before, but it was still hard. She, and of course Kenin and Joa, we're still healing from Minul's reaping and their parents death. Yurol tried to move past it and go on with her life. She lived as best she could. We had our good and happy times, but really, she was usually sad despite her best efforts.

So it pleases me to see Yurol appearing at ease and deeply content with Cameron. The owner of the pastry shop is reading something at the counter waiting for Yurol to bring the box up. Yurol comes around a row of metal racks, and looks up from her box. "Do you want anything?" I'm about to respond when she looks behind me. "Hey, isn't that Finnick?"

I follow her gaze and look out the window. He's standing across the road looking at us. Or maybe at the shop. Whichever one it is, he knows we're inside. "It is."

"Weren't you supposed to be with him?" Yurol asks now thinking about it.

Cameron is standing behind her and looking out the window too. "He looks mad."

Finnick's arms may be hanging loosely to his side, but you can see the strain on his face from him keeping his lips in a straight line and not forming a scowl. I walk past the metal racks and ask Yurol. "Can you pick some of those cone pastries for me?"

* * *

_Finnick POV_

The pastry shop door opens, and Annie steps out. As much as I try to control my temper, a wave of anger floods me. I don't want to be angry with her, but I feel this pit in my stomach which can't be ignored. I'd waited nearly an hour for Annie outside The Shack until Binsen came out and told me Annie had left awhile ago. While I was walking back to the Victors' Village, a bit hurt and confused as to why she went somewhere without me when we had plans, I saw her walking into a neighborhood of homes.

I couldn't help myself, I had to follow her. Imagine my shock when I saw that Annie had gone to Joln's house. And he saw me when they were talking, and he must have invited her in because she went inside. I waited around until Annie came back out, and I followed her here. She seems to be in a good mood, scaring Yurol and all, so why would she have ditched me?

Annie walks over to me and stops a few inches away. "Finnick."

I don't say anything.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to leave you." She quietly says. "I was upset."

I still don't say anything.

"It just overwhelmed me, and I had to get away." Annie explains.

I say nothing.

Annie looks hurt. "Are you not talking to me?"

The jealousy—of remembering Annie wanting to see Joln over spending time with me and entering his house where I'm sure they've had sex—consumes me and I am burning up. Rather abrasively, I reply. "So you want to talk to me now?"

"It's not that I didn't want to." Annie says obviously hurt. "I just needed to sort through things."

"And going to Joln's was the way you cleared your head?" I throw at her unable to hold back my accusation any longer.

She states. "You followed me."

I retort. "Yeah when I saw you disappearing into some neighborhood after blowing me off."

Annie looks to the side and whispers. "He got fired, you know? After fighting with you."

"So you're saying this is my fault?" I defensively ask.

"_Finnick_," Annie emphasizes, "no, I'm not saying that at all. This is my fault."

She bites her lips and it crushes my heart when I see Annie's eyes become watery. I've been so caught up in my anger about being blown off that I didn't see the guilt and sadness riddling her face. Annie raises a hand to wipe away a tear, and I realize I should be the one wiping away that tear. Despite the simmering anger and hurt, I inhale deeply and close the space between us.

Unaware or uncaring about the several people sneaking glances at us, Annie buries her face into my chest and wraps her arms around me. I can barely see Yurol and Cameron, through the bright glass, looking at us to see what's going on. Small groups of girls pretend to busy themselves in just coincidently stopping by on the side of the road to talk to one another. I watch them as they watch me rest my chin on top of Annie's head and partially press my nose in her hair. With each sob in my arms, my shirt grows a little wetter.

I slowly rub my hand on Annie's back to help her calm down. "It's okay Annie. It'll be okay. Joln will be fine. This isn't your fault."

She keeps crying, and muffles the sound against my body. I'm still not happy Annie ditched me, but whatever her reason it was clearly caused by the responsibility she feels for Joln getting fired. We can talk about this later. Right now, she needs me here for her. I hold Annie in my arms and continue to rub her back. My eyes close and I take in the feeling of what it is to comfort her. The better the one you care about feels, the better you feel too. Some deep connection has formed between us.

I open my eyes when Annie pulls her head back and looks up at me. "Can we go somewhere private to talk?"

I nod my head and gently say. "Of course. You may want to wipe your face first." Annie feels in her pant's pockets for tissues, but there's nothing. I playfully say with exasperation. "Go ahead, use my shirt. It won't be the first time you have."

She manages a small grin. Without shame, Annie presses her face to my chest and wipes. Normally this would be gross, but she has done this before, though unintentionally then, and now it seems natural that I should see Annie at not her greatest moments and be completely and utterly okay with that. Which I am. So actually, the whole crying mess doesn't bother me.

Annie doesn't take my hand because I know she's wondering if that's what I want her to do, so I take her hand in mine and we walk away out of the public's eye.

* * *

We take a seat in the shade of some trees on a small hill. Annie sits next to me and stares ahead at the fence which marks Four's border. Beyond the fence is more grass and in the far distance is barren land. No one would survive the distant terrain for very long. Few have tried, none have come back.

I hold a few strands of Annie's hair between my fingers as I let her gather her words. I won't be the first to speak because she needs to do that. It's her turn to say what has to because not all my anger has left. And I think I've said more than enough to hurt her feelings.

Absentmindedly, Annie reaches back with her right hand and takes my fingers. "Do you ever think about running away Finnick?"

This throws me off. I look at the side of Annie's face, but she keeps staring past the fence. There's always the worry that Snow is listening, but I doubt he'll take this as anything. I shake my head even though she's not looking. "No. Where would I go?"

"Somewhere else." Annie answers a bit sadly. "Where people aren't reaped or try so hard to survive but fall short."

"That place doesn't exist." I reply.

"I wish it did." She responds.

I lean forward and kiss her cheek. "Why are you talking like this?"

Annie turns to me. "It's just a thought Finnick. It doesn't mean anything." Her voice is a hollow whisper.

"We can't change our circumstances. We make do with what we get." I tell her. "I find it best to not imagine or dream."

She sadly smiles at me. "I dream a lot. Not about changing how things are, but, just dreaming."

I cup Annie's face in my palm, and put my thumb to her lip. "I'm glad we're different."

"Why is that?" she asks.

"Because it gives me a new perspective. Things to think about." I say.

Annie presses her face into my palm and sighs. Her eyes close and I'm mesmerized by the sight. Long dark eyelashes contrast against her fair skin. It's a moment of peace and stillness. When Annie opens her eyes again, the green meet mine. "I'm sorry I left you." She pulls her face out of my palm and scoots closer. "I'd just found out Joln got fired and I freaked. I mean, we may not be anything, but I did care about him once in a different way."

I can't help it; my head turns to the side as I hear Annie talk about the guy she was with before me. Her concern for him is in her voice and I can't win against this jealousy.

Annie's fingers gently curl beneath my chin and bring my face in her direction. "I know it's not what you want to hear. But it's the truth. And you deserve that." She puts her hand down and rests it on my thigh setting my skin beneath the thin fabric on fire. "You need to understand that Joln helps support his parents. I've always known his job was incredibly important, and when I heard he was fired, I knew what it meant for his family."

I put my hand on Annie's, and don't look away. She continues. "So I went to his house to see how he was doing. It's the least I could do considering how much he loved me, and how I never returned the feeling." My heart leaps upon hearing this. "I found out he's losing his place and moving back in with his parents." Annie bites her lip. "I'm with you Finnick. I don't want to be with Joln. But I had to do what I thought was the right thing."

I lean forward slowly so Annie is aware of my intentions, and I press my lips to hers. With our lips touching, I quietly say. "I forgive you."

Annie returns my kiss. "Thank you."

Each kiss on this hill pulls me in deeper, and before I know it, Annie is lying down and I am leaning over her. We're not exactly in a public area, but it's not exactly too private either. Yet I can't stop myself from continually kissing Annie. She moves her hands from the back of my neck and brings them around to my throat. Slowly her hands move to my chest and she rubs my pectoral muscles. It literally drives me insane. I've never felt this sort of touch before. I'm breathing far harder than I ever have for doing so little in comparison to what I usually do.

Annie's breathing increases, and when she moves her lips to the side and kisses the base of my throat, a surge of pleasure runs through my body. I should stop, because only she can carry things further, and I shouldn't be the one to initiate, but I kiss the side of her lips, her jawline, her throat, and make my way down to her collarbone. I'm aware of how close my face is to Annie's breasts, and it takes everything in me to keep my hands firmly planted on the grass to her sides. I hold my lips on the curve of her bone, and kiss it several times.

Annie has brought her arms up and wrapped them around my back, holding our bodies close together. Her left leg is up, very lightly wrapped around my right calf. My left leg is between both her legs, and she keeps her right leg flat. This is too much. Too far gone. Not the right place. I can't say about the time.

I raise my head and kiss Annie's lips one more time, and she has an understanding look in her eyes. "Another time."

"Another place." I too say.

I roll onto my back, and Annie surprises me when she lies next to me and rests her head on my chest. Probably not the best position for me to cool down, but then again I want her near. She slowly strums her fingers on my chest. "Did you ever go this slow with another girl?"

"Slow?" I pretend to exclaim. She laughs, and I put my hand to her head. "I know what you mean. And no, I haven't. I've been a one-time kind of guy. Usually."

"Usually?" she curiously asks.

I watch the clouds slowly drift across the sky. "I've gone back to a few girls more than once. They were victors though, so we understood each other."

Annie slightly raises her head. "Victors. Like Heria and Cashmere?"

"Yeah." I say a bit ashamed. "I think we've all slept with each other because for what we did in the arena, we hate ourselves. At least I know Cashmere feels this way."

"You shouldn't hate yourself Finnick." Annie tells me.

"When I'm with you, I believe that." I admit.

She puts her head back down on my chest. "Good."

I have to ask. "Does it bother you that I slept with the girl who killed Minul?"

Annie slightly tenses. "Not in the way you're thinking. I just, she's the girl who killed him. No one really gets past that."

"Yeah." I agree because very few of the families can move past the fact I've mentored their dead children. It's what I'll always be associated with. Why couldn't I save their child? What else could I have done? Maybe if I had done one thing differently. These thoughts are always in their eyes.

I'm stroking Annie's hair, and after cloud watching for several minutes, I realize she's fallen asleep. I smile, and continue watching the clouds.

* * *

_Annie POV_

"Annie?" a voice gently whispers.

"Mmm?" I groggily reply.

"Wake up. It's almost time for you shift." the voice says.

I blink my eyes open several times, and I feel how tender they are. I reach up to wipe my eyes, and feel that they're crusted with tears and those eye boogers. Even my nose could use a good rubbing. Wait, I'm still lying on Finnick. I turn my face away as I sit up and hastily try to wipe off the mess. "Well I'm sure this is very attractive."

Finnick wraps his left arm around my waist, pulls me closer, and kisses the side of my head—the sound echoing in my ear. "It doesn't matter. You've seen me at my worst."

"So you're saying I look terrible?" I ask.

"No, no. That's not what I meant." He quickly says.

I begin to laugh, and face him again since I'm almost certain I've cleaned my face. "I'm kidding. I know what you meant."

Finnick reaches up and gently twists my nose and brushes off some parts I must have missed. He pretends to make a disgusted face, and wipes his thumb on my shirt. "All clean now."

"Most guys would be revolted, you know?" I comment.

"You're different than the other girls. Totally worth it." he replies.

I look up and slightly clench my teeth together. "A bit corny?" I look back at Finnick. "I know you're sincere."

I lightly kiss him before getting to my feet and helping him up. We walk back in the direction of The Shack and Finnick puts an arm around my shoulder. The sun is setting and the sky is tinged bright orange and pink. I've walked to The Shack during a few sunsets with Finnick, but this one feels different. Probably because of how far our relationship is progressing. Honestly, I don't think I've ever moved this fast with a guy, or felt this comfortable. A part of me is scared, but the faith and trust I have in Finnick far exceeds the worry of getting hurt.


	20. Chapter 20: Certainty

**Hey, so I know it's been FOREVER since I posted, and sorry about that. I have 21 credits this semester (9 classes) so I am crazy busy. I totally appreciate all my loyal readers since I can see the stats about how many visitors and reads, so you are not taken for granted. Thanks for the reviews, I appreciate them too and truly enjoy knowing what you have to say about my writing. So here's Ch. 20, and enjoy!**

**p.s-this chapter is rather sexual-ish so if you're uncomfortable or may get offended; this is your warning. and actually, this will probably be the last warning since future chapters will have sexual elements considering just the characters and graphic nature of the trilogy. so if you're offended sorry, but this is probably where you should stop reading since it'll only get more realistic as the plot goes on. **

* * *

**Chapter Twenty: Certainty**

_Annie POV_

Next to me, Finnick is asleep on his bed; face pressed into his pillow. I've been lying here for the past hour attempting to sleep, but I'm not as tired as he was. Today he and Kenin went to the community center to help the other teenagers train for at least eight hours. During this time more than half of the people challenged Finnick for one on one combat, Kenin included, and though he was extremely exhausted towards the end, he still went undefeated. After their session, we went to Kenin's house and ate dinner with Yurol and Joa, then came back here. Finnick showered, brushed his teeth, gave me a good night kiss, and passed out.

Only within the past few days I've begun to sleep in Finnick's bed. I'd been comfortable on the couch, but since we both knew I was no longer coming here for Kenin who is much better now, it seemed appropriate I move upstairs. Finnick has made it a point to fall asleep on the far side of his bed, leaving me on the other side. Ever since this change, he's been a lot more cautious about how far we take things.

I roll onto my side and watch Finnick's sleeping form. Both his arms are underneath his pillow, and his mouth is slightly open. His bronze hair is in a disarray. The muscles in his shoulders and back are so defined I can see each bulge and cut. The small amount of moonlight filtering in through the window illuminates his figure, though barely revealing the golden tan I know he has. The white pants Finnick is wearing are well lit and bright however.

Finnick's biceps begin to tense, and I see the tension in his muscles as his veins begin to become more prominent than they already are. I bring my body closer, and gently put a hand to Finnick's solid arms; he relaxes when I stroke my fingers across his skin. He lets out a muffled sound of distress, but doesn't wake up. Only when I'm sure whatever nightmare has passed, do I scoot back a little.

From beneath Finnick's bedroom door, I see a light flicker on, and I know Kenin is downstairs in the kitchen. I take one more look at Finnick assured he won't wake up, and I get out of bed. Downstairs, Kenin is rifling through the freezer, but it's only when he closes the door do I get the scare of my life. His face is bleeding, swollen, cut, bruised, covered in blood.

"Kenin!" I nearly shriek.

"Shh!" he hisses but immediately winces. He holds a rag up to his face. "Keep it down. I don't want Finnick to wake up."

In a shocked but hushed voice, I dash over to him. "What _happened_?"

Kenin avoids me, and goes to the sink. "Nothing."

He puts the rag down, and turns on the faucet. I'm trying to contain the screams of panic, so I force myself to calmly walk to him. Blood is running in the sink, and I see that his knuckles are badly scraped and gashed. Kenin looks in the window at his reflection, and begins to carefully wash the blood off his face. I grab another rag, hold it above his hands, and turn off the water.

I hold the rag up. "Face me."

"Annie, it's fine." Kenin tells me.

"Now." I firmly say although my insides are quivering.

He lets out a sigh, but complies. "I thought you and Finnick were asleep."

I softly press the rag to Kenin's cheek, and wipe off the blood. "Finnick is."

"You weren't supposed to see this." Kenin says.

"I would have seen how you looked tomorrow." I tell him. "Kenin, what happened?"

He puts a hand on my wrist, and stops me. "Can you get the first aid kit?"

"Tell me what happened." I demand.

"After you get the first aid kit. You don't want me to die of infection, do you?" Kenin tries to defer.

I hand him the rag. "Fine, but you are telling me what happened as soon as I get back."

Kenin exasperatedly raises his eyebrows in agreement, and puts the other rag, which I assume has ice, to his face. He's leaning against the counter when I go back upstairs. Very quietly, I rummage through the space beneath the bathroom sink and grab the first aid box. It's dark because I don't want to turn the light on in case Finnick wakes up, but I'm not sure how helpful that is since I knock over a few bottles of cleaning disinfectants.

"Shh!" Kenin quietly calls from downstairs.

I'm about to reply, I'm trying, but decide against it since my voice would carry to Finnick's room. With the first aid kit, I head back downstairs. Kenin is sitting at the dining table, and I pull out the chair next to him. I set the box on the table, and get out the cleaning alcohol.

"No." Kenin says. "That stuff hurts."

"It's the only way to make sure you don't get an infection." I hiss. "Give me the rag, you still have blood on your face."

Kenin keeps his eyes on the ceiling as I clean off the rest of the blood. He grimaces a few times, but tries to keep his face expressionless. "The treatment was so much easier in the Capitol."

I take the rag from his face, and pour the alcohol on it. "We're not in the Capitol."

"Ow!" Kenin exclaims as I press the rag to a cut that goes from his eyebrow down past his cheekbone. "Some compassion would be nice."

"Tell me what happened, now." I say a bit angry. Whatever he was doing, I'm sure was out of stupidity and recklessness. Why else would he seem so casual?

Kenin inhales deeply as I pat his split lip with the rag. "Maybe some morphling too?"

"Kenin." I sternly say.

"Alright." He gives up. Very quietly he admits. "I got into a fight with Derek."

My hand falls and my voice becomes a whisper. "What?"

Kenin tilts his head down, and looks me in the eyes. "He deserves to die."

"Kenin." I scarcely breathe.

"I'm strong enough Annie. And I'm one of the few people who could get away with killing a peacekeeper." He says.

I'm holding my left hand to my mouth, and trying to suppress a sob. Of course it doesn't do anything. I begin to cry. "You can't do that. I don't care if you're strong enough. Killing those people in your games damaged you enough, you don't deserve to break yourself even more."

Kenin holds his ground. "The people in my game didn't deserve to die. Derek does. Killing him wouldn't bother me." I'm about to protest, but he angrily says. "Twice Annie! _Twice_. He walks around unpunished for what he did to you. Who knows how many other girls he—"

"Don't say it Kenin." I sob. I can't bear to hear the next word. I've never said it aloud, and I don't want Kenin to. "There's nothing we can do about it."

"I can do something." Kenin replies. "I will do something about it."

I hold my arms out and gesture to his face. "Look at you. You're completely banged up. I am not going to have you get more hurt for me."

Kenin puts a hand on my arm. "Annie, he raped you. And I'm sure he's done the same to other girls. He has to pay for it."

I cover my face with my hands because Kenin's spoken the truth. I've tried to scrub my body and mind clean, but sometimes it comes back to haunt me. You can't help but obsess over and relive certain moments. It's in the past so there's nothing you can do, but the memory never goes away. I let Kenin hold me as I sob into his shoulder, and weep for what happened. I'd never cried about it before, but seeing Kenin battered because of what happened and him seeking revenge is too much.

I'm glad I have Kenin here with me while I cry about the secret only four souls knew, but I think it's become five souls when we hear the front door slam shut. We both freeze, and look to the entrance. It's closed, but doors don't open and close by themselves. I have a terrible feeling.

I get up, and call. "Finnick?"

No answer.

I run up the stairs. "Finnick!"

Nothing.

I push his bedroom door open and find an empty bed.

Finnick is gone. No doubt was listening. And has left to find Derek.

* * *

_Finnick POV_

My mind is numb in hatred. A great burning hatred which envelops my entire sense of reality. It's all I know. It is literally all that I breathe. It is what pushes the blood through my veins as I storm the roads looking for Derek. _Derek._ Who raped my Annie and gave her those bruises. It immediately clicked in my mind when I was listening halfway down the stairs. Derek is the reason Kenin didn't want Annie walking at night. It's why she seemed out of touch with reality that one night and had a few injuries. He hurt her! And worse!

_I am going to kill him!_

During my game I'd never known this kind of anger. Even when the careers killed Emilia. We were in the games, we fought for survival, but _this_—this is different. Derek is going to pay with his life for what he did to Annie. And probably other defenseless girls. I am going to bash his head in and make him suffer a long agonizing death, and when he begs for death, I'll prolong it. My fingers are going to dig into Derek's eye sockets and he'll be left defenseless and blind. My fist will break his jaw and shatter his teeth so he'll become a mute. Every single one of his fingers will be broken and mutilated when I am finished.

_Where are you Derek?_

Something is nagging at my mind, but the overwhelming hatred is too thick for anything to get through except the need to take Derek's life. I see him with a hand against a wall, pressed above some girl's head. There are suppressed sobs, and I know he's about to commit an unforgivable crime. I'm suddenly running, and my hand grabs his shoulder yanking him to face me. Just as Derek turns his head, I've pulled my right arm back and let my fist fly into his face.

_Crack!_

Derek crumples to the floor and the girl lets out a muffled scream. But I'm too consumed in finishing what I planned to carry out that I don't tell the girl to get out of here. I'm bending over Derek, holding him up by his shirt, and _crack_ my fist into his jaw again. He tries to let out an agonizing scream as his jaw is horribly misshapen, but I shove my hand over his mouth—feeling his mandible violently jerk out of place—and I begin to bludgeon him in the face.

I pull my hand back. Pound. "How could you do that to Annie!" I scream.

Pull my hand back. Pound. My left hand clenches Derek's shirt and I bring him up to my face. "She had no way of defending herself!"

Pull my hand back. Pound. "Do you have any idea the effect it had on her!" I throttle him with my left hand.

Pull my hand back. _Crunch_. "You _raped_ my Annie!" I roar in a rage.

Pull my hand back. Smash. "Twice!" I yell in his face.

Derek's face is swollen and a bloodied pulp. His nose is collapsed and I can't make out the features of his face anymore. I pull my hand back unable to control my anger and scream, "_I am going to kill you_!"

_Finnick._ A whisper. _Stop it._

My hand is still pulled back, shaking, partially frozen at the voice which has pierced my mind.

_Listen to me, stop. Don't do this to yourself. Stop while he's still alive._

My hand is shaking. Keep punching. Derek deserves to die. He deserves to die in great pain until it's all he knows before death. Keep punching him. Make him suffer.

_You don't deserve the guilt of being a murderer who had a choice to spare their life. The reason you could get better, the reason I believed in you, was because in the games none of us had a choice. Not really. So we're not really accountable for the lives we took. But you will be held accountable now. If you finish what you started. Please stop, I'm begging you. Listen to me. Annie didn't want Kenin killing Derek, what would she think about you killing him?_

Annie… She…she didn't want Kenin to kill Derek. But it was because he wasn't strong enough, it was because he wouldn't be able to finish what he started. I can, I know I can.

No, it was because Annie didn't want Kenin to become a murderer.

We're both murderers though. All those people we killed in our games. Me especially.

She knows this. That's different. Annie knew you wouldn't have killed them under different circumstances. In her eyes, you're not a killer.

I am a killer, she knows that.

It's different with the games, she doesn't see you that way. If you—I kill Derek, Annie will never look at you—me the same way.

No! This is different! He deserves to die!

She knows that, she agrees, but she still doesn't want his life taken regardless of what he did. If you follow through, it's over between the both of you.

Annie and I. We won't have a future.

This distraction from Emilia and the argument with myself has allowed enough time to pass for Derek to feebly hold a hand up and cover his face in minimal defense. My left hand is still gripping his shirt, and his other hand is weakly grasping mine in protest. My right hand is still pulled back, aching with the pain to finish this. One more punch—to the throat crushing Derek's vocal chords and airway passage—will end his life. He'll either go into shock from the pain, or suffocate as his throat collapses upon itself blocking oxygen from entering his lungs.

Her voice enters mine again. _Finnick, go home. Listen to yourself. Leave. I promise you, if you kill out of cold blood without reason for the greater good, you'll hate yourself and destroy everything you hold dear—never giving yourself a chance at having the happiness you want in the future. Go home. To Annie. She's waiting for you._

Derek—he deserves to die. He—he deserves it!

_Annie is waiting for you, Finnick. Go home to her. Return to her as the guy you were when you left, not as someone she didn't fall in love with._

No, she doesn't—she can't love me. It's a lie. Annie…

_You love her too. Be with her. This is something you could never have with anyone else. Do not be the destruction of your own happiness._

I…I can't just leave. I have to finish this. I pull my hand back and hold Derek up. His arms struggle and try to push me away. His hands weakly shove my chest and I know he sees my intention. Derek knows his death is coming. And I have no plans to let him come out of this alive. My hand shakes with adrenaline as I build up my energy for the fatal blow.

_Damnit Finnick listen to me! Listen to me right now! Don't you dare kill him! I will never forgive you! Annie will never forgive you! I am begging you to not do this! You owe me! I died while you lived! You don't get to become the guy who I knew you were better than! Why else do you think I wanted you to live? Did you ever think about that? Don't you dare finish this! Finnick, no!_

I let out a roar or scream as I slam my fist forward and hear a sickening _crunch._ It's the sound of bone breaking from great force which shoots pain all the way up my arm into my brain. My hand is covered in fresh blood. And, I'm done.

I let go of Derek's shirt and his head falls back against the ground. He's shaking in fear and staring at me through tiny slits between his inflamed eyes. His breaths come in ragged gasping sobs, and I can tell he won't last much longer unless I get him help for his jaw and face. There's a lot of blood and Derek's lost enough to the point where one should be concerned.

My right hand lifts off the ground next to Derek's face, and I can see a bit of my own bone sticking out which is the source of the fresh blood on my hand. The pain is incredible, but I'll be fine. For now, I can manage the pain. Since my right hand is useless, I maneuver my left hand behind Derek's back and push him upright in a sitting position. Then I wrap my left arm around him and haul him up. Very slowly we walk to the main healer's house, and I'm sure each step must be horrifically jarring for Derek.

In a few minutes, we're outside the healer's door, and I take my left hand from around Derek so I can knock. But before I do, I quietly say. "I know what you did to Annie. And you deserve to die for that. So if you ever touch her, or any other girl again, I swear to you that I will kill you then without hesitation. This is your warning."

Derek can't say anything because his jaw is swollen and broken, but he manages to nod with his head hung low. I knock on the door and wait for the healer to come. When I hear footsteps approaching, I give Derek one last warning look, and jog out of the neighborhood.

* * *

_I was sure you were going to do it._

I inhale deeply and sigh. "I thought so too."

_I'm glad you didn't._

"It wasn't fair for you to interfere."

She gives a faint laugh. _You can't seriously be mad at me._

"But I am." I admit. I look up at the dark sky and see the illuminated clouds blocking the moon. "He deserved to die."

_And you deserve to be better than that._ She retorts with an edge to her voice. _Of course I have an edge to my voice Finnick, you're being irrational right now._

She's walking next to me, and casts me an annoyed look. I watch her golden hair flow in the slight breeze. "It's not fair you can hear my thoughts."

_You hear mine._

"Not the way you hear mine."

_True._ She shrugs and looks forward again. _You don't want to hear what the dead think all the time._

We're walking past the bakery shop, but she stops in front of the green door. I come to a halt, and go over to the door. "What is it?"

Her hands are pressed to the glass and she sadly says. _I use to come here with Todd. We would get these strawberry tarts and try to fit an entire one into our mouth. It seems so long ago._

"It was a long time ago Emilia." I softly say. "We were only children then."

She turns around to face me, and touches my cheek with cold fingers. Her blue eyes look terribly sad and I almost turn away. _Please don't. Sometimes I hate being invisible so much, and it's not often people see me so clearly._

"Who else sees you?"

_Todd. Not all the time. But on occasion. _A tear falls from her eye. _I should let him go, move on, but I can't. He thinks about me often and it keeps me bound. Every time I begin to drift, he'll return and I can't help but stay. And then you also need me._

I wipe away her tear and cup her chin. "Doesn't seem fair you're still doing things for me." I think about Derek. "You just helped save my life again. Despite all the years that have passed."

_I'm here for you Finnick. I know you would have died for me had things gone differently. You were willing to kill yourself for me if it meant I could get rescued in time. I'll never forget that. _ I'm about to say something, but, _Goodbye for now Finnick._

"Finnick!" an oh so familiar voice nearly shrieks.

I turn around and nearly black out from the pain when Annie grabs my hands and excruciatingly twists it in a motion to bring me closer. A roar of pain is my response and I stagger since I almost fall to the floor.

Quickly, Annie lets go of my hands and reaches for my waist. "What happened?"

"I found Derek."

There's a look of horror, and Annie whispers. "Oh Finnick, don't tell me you did."

_I told you._ She can't help but remark.

My left hand reaches for Annie's face, and I stroke her cheek, my teeth clenched together in pain. "He's alive, but badly beaten. I took him to the healer's place."

"Finnick…" Annie says to me in a sad voice. She reaches up and wraps her hand around mine pressing it to her cheek. "You shouldn't have gone looking for him. You were never supposed to know about this."

"Annie," I firmly say and step closer, "he deserves to die for what he did to you."

"But you didn't kill him." She says with tears falling down her face.

I shake my head. "I didn't."

A drop of water splashes on me when Annie asks. "Why didn't you?"

With my thumb, I wipe away a stream of tears which are instantly replaced with more. "Emilia stopped me."

"Is that who you were talking with?"

"What?"

Annie explains. "I saw you, and while I was running towards you, it seemed like you were talking to someone, and then you held your arm up to empty air."

I'm sure it looked that way. Water splashes on Annie's nose, and I nod. "It must seem a bit crazy."

"Not really." She says to my surprise, and I think maybe it's because she hears voices sometimes too, but Annie tells me. "Sometimes I catch Kenin talking to himself, and I listen. He mainly talks to the dead tributes, and tries to explain how sorry he is. Plus, during your game's screening, you mimicked a girl's voice telling you to move your body and not give up and that she died while you lived when you were electrocuted and debating if it would be better to let the other girl win. I figured it was Emilia and the voices are still there."

I'm stunned. This whole time Annie knew I heard voices? I thought it was a secret I kept well hidden. Most people would find me insane and put as much distance between us as possible. But not Annie. And I know it's because she's a bit different, but that is exactly what I need. Someone who can accept me as I am. Maybe she'll be able to help me the way I need help, and it won't scare her away. I—I…

"I…" I begin to say. The words get stuck in my throat, and I begin to breathe heavily and quickly. My chest grows tight and it starts to feel as if I'm suffocating.

Annie immediately notices this, and wraps her left arm around me, rubbing her right hand to my chest. "Breathe Finnick, just breathe."

She misinterprets my hyperventilation for fear of her knowing about the voices, but it's really the opposite, I—I…the words won't form into a sentence in my head because their meaning is too overwhelming. I force myself to slowly let the air down my throat, but it's hard because my instinct is to suck in unsteady gulps. After several seconds of shaking, I catch my breath, and feel my body relax.

"That's it." Annie says encouragingly with a hint of relief. "It's okay. I understand, I'm not going anywhere."

A light drizzle of rain falls on us as I lean down to kiss her because I can't say what I really want to. Annie's right hand is still pressed to my chest, and she reaches up to place her hand at the base of my neck to bring herself deeper into our kiss. And I kiss her. My beautiful, wonderful, gorgeous Annie. I let the feel of her lips take over and pull me under beneath the water around us.

We kiss on the road, in a drizzle of rain, outside of the place we had our first fight. I hold Annie's body close to mine as I slowly tilt my head to the side, and guide my hand to small of her back. Annie parts her lips and caresses my lips in a leading motion which I am powerless to do nothing else but follow her lead. She's the only one I've ever felt not completely in control with. And I like that. Annie is what I need.

So I kiss back at her pace, and enjoy every moment. It's a happiness I'd never be capable of obtaining through anything else, or with anyone else. She is my Annie. And I know in this moment, if I lose her, no one will ever take her place. People say you can move on, but when it's like this—what I have with Annie and what I feel for her—you don't move on. You don't just get better. You hold on for dear life so they'll always be yours and you'll never have to know what it's like to live without them.

I slightly lean forward and give Annie one last long kiss before slowing my lips to a speed that signals we should come up to breathe. When I open my eyes, her eyes are staring into mine, and I see something in them. It's too good to be true, but I see it, and remember it. We're drenched in water now that the drizzle has become a full on downpour, and I notice she's shivering.

"We should get you inside." I say with my forehead pressed to hers.

She smiles and says through chattering teeth. "A-and we-we shou-should get y-your ha-hand." Annie begins to make that rapid breathing noise when you're freezing, and she can't finish her sentence.

"Let's go." I say.

Annie nods, shaking uncontrollably.

I wrap my arms around her for body heat, and hurry her towards the Victors' Village.

* * *

_Annie POV_

"N-no, we n-need t-t-to see Yu-Yurol. She'll t-t-take a lo-look at your-r-r hand." I force the words out along with the loud tapping of teeth hitting against each other at an extremely fast pace. I'm freezing to death, shaking constantly with violent shivers, and feel drained of energy as I have no heat in my body.

Finnick nods and turns around with me so we can run up the stairs of Kenin's porch. He furiously pounds on the door as we wait for someone to open it for us while the sound of roaring rain fills our surroundings. I look to the side and see sheets of rain allowing minimal visibility. It looks like a dispersed waterfall coming down everywhere.

What seems like an eternity later, a tired, and slightly bedraggled Yurol opens the door. Her eyes widen when she sees us. "What are you guys doing? It's not even light out."

"L-let us in, Yu-Yurol." I stammer through the cold.

She opens the door wide, and I hurry inside with Finnick behind me. We're shaking inside Kenin's house while Yurol closes the door then turns back around. "Finnick! Your hand!"

"Not my best look." He jokes through clenched teeth—because of the rain, pain, or both.

Yurol's face immediately goes into serious mode and she runs up the stairs to get the first-aid kit. I look at Finnick's hand and see the white of his bone. It makes my stomach sick, makes me want to scream in shock, but he's here with me so I can handle it. But it's still a bit much. I can't stop staring though. It's all I can focus on now.

"You look like you're going to faint." Finnick comments.

"I d-do not." I protest because I'm trying to be strong for him.

He kisses my forehead. "It's okay. I'll be fine."

It's so cold in here, even while I'm pressed against Finnick since he has no body heat to spare, but the kiss warms me. I rest my cheek against his chest and see my reflection in the entrance room mirror. I thought Yurol looked slightly bedraggled, but I'm one to talk. My hair is a crazy, tangled mess, lying lifelessly against my back. There's a sort of crazed look in my eyes from the cold and fear. And these dark circles don't help the bewildered expression on my face.

Yurol runs down the stairs. "Finnick, sit on the couch. Now." I pull away from Finnick, and we walk to the couch where he gratefully takes a seat. Yurol sits on the table in front, and opens the box. "Annie, get some blankets so you guys don't die from freezing to death."

She may sound bossy, but this is just her tone when something serious happens. No time to spare a sensitive person's feelings, only straight to the point. I kiss Finnick on the cheek. "I'll be right back."

He nods and clenches his teeth as Yurol takes his hand in hers. I get up from the couch, and get three blankets from the downstairs closet beneath the stairs. They're fluffy and warm, and are exactly what we need. I hurry back to Finnick, and wrap two of the blankets around him from behind, then take a seat on his left. We're separated by the blankets, but for now, we need to get our own body heat back.

I push myself lightly against Finnick, and watch Yurol work her magic. In the short time I've been gone, she's managed to get a few stiches in Finnick's wrist—an attempt to reconnect the separated skin. His wrist is swollen and bulging from the broken bone, and I can still see a bit of white, but Yurol's technique seems to be working. There's less white than before.

A few bloodied gauzes—tainted with the smell of blood and cleaning disinfectant—lie on the table next to her. Drops of blood splatter Finnick's pants and Yurol's fingers are bloody as she does another stitch and tightens it as much as possible without tearing the thread. Her face is focused and concentrated as she ties the knot.

Without looking up, Yurol firmly asks the both of us. "What happened?"

Finnick glances at me because he knows this is my secret, and he is letting me decide what to say. I put my right hand on his thigh for comfort. "Kenin got into a fight with Derek, and then Finnick fought Derek."

All true, but not the truth.

"Kenin?" Yurol asks concerned. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine." I tell her. "Just a few cuts, nothing serious. I cleaned him up."

Yurol's lips are pinched tightly together because she knows she's lost all say with things concerning Kenin. Finally she says. "Thank you."

"Your welcome." I softly reply.

She's on another stitch, and Finnick manages to tell Yurol. "Thank you. For helping me."

Momentarily Yurol stops what she's doing, and lifts her head to face him. "Of course."

They hold each other's eye contact, and I know in that moment Yurol has cast off any prejudices against Finnick. He seems to know this too because he slightly nods, and then Yurol goes back to work. I am held in this moment because Finnick has finally been accepted as being a part of my life, and that means a lot to me. I…I—can I think it? I…him, and I don't want him to be excluded from everything about me.

While my hand rests on Finnick's thigh, and Yurol does several more stiches, Finnick eventually reaches for my hand with his left, and holds it tightly. It's all beneath the blankets, but I know Yurol is ignoring our subtle movements. She's too sharp to not notice how close we are. She does the last knot, and then reaches for some bandages.

"You're going to need to keep this bandaged for a very long time, and come back here every day so I can check on it." Something comes to Yurol's mind because I can detect the faint smile. "This means you can't put any sort of pressure on your wrist Finnick. No strenuous activities, fighting, training, pushups, or any body positions of that sort."

Finnick blinks, I stare, Yurol hides a smile.

She tucks the bandage beneath a previous layer and stands up. "That should be good. Put some ice on that for now, and remember what I said. Goodnight you two."

With that Yurol leaves as Finnick stares straight ahead still wondering if he heard her correctly. I quickly leave the living room, and call up to Yurol who is walking to her bedroom. "Thank you."

"Your welcome Annie." She calls back and I hear her door begin to close. "Remember, no pressure on the wrist." Unable to hold back a laugh, Yurol closes the door so the sound is muffled.

I get ice from the kitchen and wrap it in a rag, then return to Finnick. He's still staring in the same place. This time I sit on his right, so I can hold the rag of ice to his wrist. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Finnick vacantly responds. He blinks again and comes back to me. "Was she implying what I think she was?"

"I think so." I tell him and gently hold the ice to his wrist. "Is that shocking to you?"

"A bit." Finnick admits and looks at me. His hair is wet and falls in unruly strands just above his eyes.

We lean back into the couch, and I turn on my side to put my legs on his. "Why?"

Finnick's left hand cups my calf from the inside. "How can you stand to have me touch you?"

I know what he means. After what happened with Derek, how could I want anyone to put their flesh to mine? I hold Finnick's sea green eyes so he knows I mean what I say. "You're not him Finnick. You're you. I know the difference. And I want to feel your touch when you hold me, play with my hair, kiss me, take my hand. Everything."

"Annie…" Finnick quietly trails off clearly not okay with my response.

"Finnick, I—" I pause. It's all too clear now. I'll never be able to see him differently. The image of Finnick will always be this in my head. The way I feel about him right now. "It's okay Finnick. I'm okay with it."

He sighs and leans forward. "I can't be though. Not after…what he did to you."

I lean forward too, and put my face slightly beneath Finnick's so he can see my eyes. "This is why I didn't want anyone to know. Especially you. I was afraid you would do something rash." He looks guilty and I know he intended to kill Derek had Emilia not intervened. "It's not fair to treat me differently Finnick. Not you."

There's conflict on his face, and I know he's struggling with an inner battle. Countless questions must be running through his mind about when and how did this happen to me. Finnick doesn't want to feel like he's taking advantage, and Derek is ruining what we have. I can't have that happen.

I take Finnick's left hand with my right, and softly tell him. "It's okay Finnick. It's okay."

I've never done this before. The guys have always made the first move. But I want him to, and I want him to know it's okay. I slowly guide his hand up towards my thigh. Finnick really sees me, and I know the resistance will come. So I hold my eye contact. "It's okay Finnick."

There's doubt in his eyes, and concern flashes in those green. Panic. Worry. Fear. Conflict. Want. Need. Fight. I guide his hand beneath the lower edge of my shorts and continue to whisper. "It's okay."

Finnick keeps his eyes focused on mine, unmoving, still as a statue, scarcely breathing. Utter control. Desire. Resist. Powerless. Waiting. As I guide his hand higher, I raise my pajama shorts and there's so little left between the tips of his fingers and my last piece of clothing there. Very slowly I lower my right leg off the side of the couch which creates a greater angle between my left and right thigh.

I keep my hand on Finnick's, and close the space between our lips. A warmth of feelings floods every part of my body and I grow intimately warm. Finnick is still fighting with himself, but when I kiss him again, he gives in. He kisses me back, and moves his lips with mine. The softness of Finnick's lips melts into my skin. I know he is mine, and I am his. It can never be any other way from here on out. In the past, we could have gone our separate ways and moved on. But not now. Now, everything has changed.

For the first time, Finnick caresses my tongue with his. The want and desire are no longer concealed. His self-restraint and control however, are evident. His fingers press into my thigh, yet won't move further up on their own. I bring his hand up with mine, and lift my thin underwear so his fingers can feel beneath. There's a moment's pause in everything, and I open my eyes to see Finnick really studying my face. His fingertips are right there, but unmoving. He is making sure.

And then, he is sure.

Finnick pushes his fingers into me, and I use my right hand to grip his left bicep. It's firm and full of tension. A slow rhythmic stroke takes over every sense and all I'm aware of is: Finnick's lips to mine, his gentle fingers, and my hand gripping his arm. We don't lie down because that would only lead to more and I know this a big step for Finnick—to allow himself to go this far with me—and our sitting position feels like the right sort of intimacy. No one is taking control. We are just being.

A moan escapes my lip and I can't control the volume. It wasn't loud, but I'll have to be quiet. And Finnick makes that difficult. Another moan begins to build in my throat, and I have to pull my lips away from Finnick's and press them to his wet chest. He moves his right arm behind me to hold me close, his right hand keeping away from any physical contact. I muffle the moan against his firm pectorals, and try to get a grasp on my breathing.

It's hard to breathe without moaning, but I stuff the sounds back down in me so I can resurface to join my lips to Finnick's. I've never felt so out of control. With the few other guys I've slept with, everything was forced out. It felt good, but I had to keep in mind to make the sounds known. With Finnick, I can't control my moans. They come so naturally and rapidly it feels like my head is spinning and like I'm lost in a state of euphoria.

My whole body tenses as I fight the moans for noise control, and I can feel Finnick's body tensing as well. Beneath my left thigh he grows hard, and I'm sure this isn't easy for him just as it isn't for me. If we were in Finnick's home, I can't say where we would stop. Also because Kenin is there too. But here, we are in a home with Yurol and Joa. We have to stay in control. Mostly. At least for the noise. I don't know. It's hard to think straight.

A loud moan is about to escape my lips, so I quickly press my face to Finnick's chest. Just in time too because this is one I have no control over. Although the sound is muffled, it makes a low drone throughout the living room, and several smaller waves follow. I've completely lost every bit of control, and all I can do is muffle my orgasms against Finnick's body. My right hand is grabbing his arm so tightly, I can feel my nails digging into his skin, but I can't unclench my hands. My muscles are contracting against my will, so I hold on with everything I have.

I hold onto Finnick as he carries me across the waves of pleasure and brings me to places I've never been. I hold my body close to his because I don't want any amount of space, however minute it may be, to be separating us. And then I come with another wave of orgasmic pleasure and muffle my voice into Finnick's body. Our bodies press so tightly together, it hurts, but neither of us let go. I raise my head to kiss Finnick's lips, and pass on a moan into his mouth as I come again and again with each caress of his fingers.

I've never been so happy or pleasured in my life, and I just want to scream—this time though, out of joy. I could scream and scream and scream as I somehow come again, and I whisper. "I love you Finnick Odair."

And it's true. Because I do love Finnick Odair, the kind and tortured soul from District Four.

* * *

_Finnick POV_

I freeze. Those three words attached to my full name echo in my ear as I stare across into Annie's dark emerald green eyes. Did she just say what I think she did? I've seen it in her eyes, but to actually hear it? I can't believe it. Yet she said it, right? It's impossible. But she did. I can barely process this. So I freeze.

My fingers are still enveloped in her wonderful, soft, warm flesh. I derived pleasure from knowing how stimulated Annie was—proof by the wetness on my fingers—but this sort of pleasure is so much more. It makes everything a thousand times better. More than a thousand. Limitlessly. She loves me?

I swallow deeply and quietly ask. "What?" I can hear the shock in my voice.

Annie is breathing deeply. Her hair is wet and tangled, there dark circles beneath her eyes, but she is beyond beautiful. Annie lifts her right hand to my cheek. "I love you."

I pull my fingers out, and place my left hand on her waist. "You do?" I sound like an idiot, but I can't help but ask. It's too inconceivable.

"I do." Annie assures me with certainty. "I love you."

I'm overwhelmed. I've always known how much Annie liked me. I saw it in her every gesture and saying. But a part of me never believed it because this sort of joy is so rare among victors. How could I let myself believe such a dream? And now that I think about how close I came to possibly losing Annie had I killed Derek—the thought is unbearable hearing what I've heard. I don't deserve this kindness. I don't deserve Annie. Yet she has completely given herself to me.

Annie reaches up and wipes a tear from my cheek. A tear? Am I crying?

She leans forward and kisses me lightly on the lips. "I just want you to know how I feel. You don't have to say anything."

More tears fill my eyes and I can't believe this is happening. I am so overcome with emotions that I am literally crying from a mixture of everything. Joy. Happiness. Shock. Gratefulness. Underserving. Shame. Self-loathing. Sorrow. Love. It's the deepest moment of my life, and I don't know how to surface. Annie is my lifeline.

Annie wipes another tear from my face, and with my eyes still closed I softly whisper. "I love you too, Annie Cresta."

When I open my eyes, I am anchored by Annie's eyes filled with love. They give me a firm ground to stand on, and for the first time, I am certain of what I want. Before I always wanted but not really because it seemed out of reach, but I am certain now. I am certain I want to be with Annie, and I don't want us to ever be apart. I want her to be mines, and I want to be hers. I want everything having to do with Annie. The good, the bad, the beautiful, the bedraggled, the normal, the different, the happy, the sad, the healthy, the sick, the clean, the dirty—literally, everything. And I will never settle for any less.

Annie smiles at me and I whisper it again. "I love you, my Annie Cresta."

This time we lay down because there are no further words to be spoken for now. We want to bask in the knowledge of our love. So we lie down and cuddle. Annie's head goes in the nook of my right arm—staying clear of my right hand—and I wrap my left arm across her body with the blankets over the both of us. We're both still soaked from the rain, and it's damp in this cocoon, but neither of us are willing to move and change into something dry because it would disrupt this irreplaceable feeling of utter contentment.

I kiss Annie on the lips a few times, and she kisses me, and after I kiss her forehead, we settle down to fall asleep as the first rays of sunlight brighten the morning sky.

* * *

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

hope you enjoyed this chapter! (just be aware that with my crazy course load, updates will not be as frequent as they were during the summer, but i still greatly appreciate my readers, and just because i have less time, does not mean i'm going to abandon the story. i have a lot of things in my head for this, just not enough time)


	21. Chapter 21: Supposed What If's

****if you were just reading this, i deleted and reposted because my ch 21 wasn't showing up until you went to chapter 20, if this messed up anything, sorry**

**I know it's taking me forever to update, and I apologize; really busy, and all that. Here's chapter 21 and just stay tuned for the future chapters because i plan to get things a bit more sped up. ENJOY**

**random fact: Atlas is a Titan (greek god) who holds up the sky; your spine is made of individual bones called vertebrae, the very first bone which literally holds your skull up is called the atlas. Connection? I think so =] (now i haven't googled if there's a connection, i just thought about this in class)**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One: Supposed What If's**

_Finnick POV_

"Hello Mr. Odair."

My blood turns to ice at the kitchen sink. It can't be.

"I see your right hand isn't in the best of condition. Tell me, why is that?"

It can't be. It just…it can't be.

"We have eyes and ears everywhere. You of all people should have known that."

I'm looking out the window, but it's light outside so I can't see his reflection. He can't be here.

A bored voice. "It would seem one of my peacekeepers acquired rather brutal injuries. This wouldn't have anything to do with your hand, would it?"

"Finnick, are you almost ready? Yurol will be waiting for—oh." The love of my life breaks off.

No!, my mind screams as I quickly turn around to see Annie looking at Snow. Her eyes a bit wide in shock, and Snow is casually smiling at her—accessing her appearance. "Hello Miss Cresta."

Annie opens her mouth and nervously licks her lips, glancing in my direction. Her eyes turn back to him. "Hello…President Snow."

"Please, just call me Snow. No need for formalities. I have a feeling we'll get to know each other one way or another." Snow tells her.

"Snow." Annie says.

Snow nods and watches her with those eyes and puffy lips. "I'm afraid I need to have a brief chat with Finnick. You don't mind do you? I'll only keep him away for a moment. Then you both may meet up with the Denfezes and Cameron for the monthly market event."

Annie slowly nods. "Of course." She begins to back away. "I'll be, uh, I'll wait in your room Finnick."

I can't bring myself to speak. My voice is gone. All I can do is give a small nod. I watch my beautiful girl leave and take two stairs at a time. Snow steps out from the corner he was standing in, and gestures to the office in the very back of the house. "Shall we, Mr. Odair?"

I force my legs to move and go into the office. The door closes behind me, and I take a seat in the chair in front of the desk while Snow sits in the leather chair behind the desk. It may be my house, but this definitely feels like his room. He watches me with cold, dead eyes as I fight the panic rising within my chest. No matter how calm his appearance may be, Snow is viciously ruthless with no regard for the pain he inflicts. Now he's seen Annie.

"I've known about Miss Cresta for awhile Mr. Odair." Snow finally says as if reading my mind. He must see fear register in my eyes because his thick lips pull into a frightening grimace. "Quite a lovely young girl, I would say. Not exactly right in the head all the time, but still lovely."

My hands clench in a fist so I can stop myself from strangling him, and my right hand begins to throb excruciatingly.

Snow eyes my arms and sees the tension since the desk hides my hands. "I see you've regained your self-control." His head slightly tilts. "So tell me, why did a district slave assault one of my peacekeepers?"

"I thought you knew everything." I say through clenched teeth. The pain in my right hand is the only thing keeping me grounded from losing it.

"Mr. Odair, I caution against your tone with me." Snow slowly says in a calm yet deathly threatening voice. "For the first time, I have leverage against you. I'd hate for you to lose it so suddenly. Especially one so frail and pretty as the one you love."

I squeeze my right hand even tighter and my vision darkens from the blinding pain. In slow, steady breaths, I reply. "He raped her."

"Did he?" Snow replies in a thoughtful tone. He looks to the left and runs a swollen tongue across those dark, puffy lips. My eyes go to the white rose in his chest pocket, and I think back to what his niece said. The rose is meant to cover the scent of blood. The fairly small, white rose's scent has filled this entire room already. Genetically altered to disperse the smell over a wide diameter. I don't realize Snow has directed his attention back to me until he speaks again. "Has something caught your eye?"

I quickly flick my eyes up from the rose to his eyes. "No. It's just a strong smell, that's all."

"Ah yes, my rose." Snow replies and runs a finger over its white petals. "I grow these myself. Do you have any idea how much care and labor it actually takes to grow roses Mr. Odair?"

"No, I don't." I say to him.

"You need to plan ahead, remove any hindrances such as weeds and unwanted plants, dispose of them, plant the rose seeds, water, fertilize; set everything just so, allowing the right environment in order to promote growth." Snow tells me in an implicative tone. "It takes great care to cultivate such beauty. And sometimes, in order to achieve that beauty, a little bit of blood is drawn from the thorns. It's not pleasant, but it is worth the rewards. I know best on how to grow roses. Anyone else doing the job would surely make a mistake and the whole garden would fall into shambles." He stands up, and rests his hands against the edge of the desk. "I couldn't have that to my garden, could I? Especially not after all the time and effort I've put into it to get the results I wanted. No, there is far too much at stake."

Snow comes around the side of the desk, but I sit here—hands still clenched. He puts a hand on my shoulder and slightly cracks the door open letting in a rush of fresh air. "Don't look so concerned. The Capitol doesn't like crazy in the head. One more incident however, and who know then? Trends easily change with one good rating in the media." He opens the door all the way. "See you in two weeks. You, Kenin, and the usual suspects will be having another trip to the Capitol. Your fans are getting restless. Enjoy the event Mr. Odair."

I'm not breathing. I can't. It's impossible. For whatever reason, Snow has given me a final warning. Annie is safe. As long as I do nothing else to jeopardize her safety. But she's safe. That much is clear. He must suspect I know about his rise to power plot, and this is his way of compromising for my continuing silence. One more mistake though, and who knows then?

"Finnick?" a soft voice asks from the door.

I unclench my hands and turn in my seat to see Annie. I force the words out. "Hey."

"You okay?" she asks.

"I am now." I tell her. I get out of the chair and stoke her cheek with my left hand. "You make me so happy."

Annie smiles and lightly kisses me. "I'm happy with you too." She pulls her head back and looks into my eyes. "What were you guys talking about?"

My hand goes into her hair and holds the base of neck in my palm. "Victor stuff. He wants me and Kenin to go to the Capitol in two weeks."

"He came here personally to tell you that?" she asks doubtfully.

I can see the concern in Annie's eyes about what happened with Derek. To ease her fears, I shrug. "We talked about the other thing. But it was mainly business as usual."

There's still doubt in her eyes. "I'm worried for you."

I need to stop acting so detached and stiff. I need my playful banter back. I smile and let out a soft laugh. "Don't be, I'm serious. Everything is fine. It's always a bit intimidating having to talk with Snow. There's something about his eyes."

Annie searches my eyes and agrees. "They are rather steely. Like a serpent if they existed."

"They are, aren't they?" I laugh and agree. My left arm goes around her and I lead her to the front door. "Ready? I don't think Yurol will be happy I've made her wait."

"You're definitely going to hear it from her." Annie laughs. "But that just means she likes you."

Annie opens the front door and closes it behind us. It's so good to feel included with Annie's family. This is what it must be like. Going out and doing things. I know I'm not a part of their family—Mags is my family—but it's nice to be included.

* * *

_Annie POV_

I know Finnick means well, and I would never hold that against him, but I also know he's lying about Snow mainly coming about business. Whatever their business is in the Capitol, I'm sure it's important to the Capitol and Snow, but it's not enough to make him come here to Four to see Finnick personally. There's a reason the Victor homes have phones inside. Which means Snow only came because Finnick nearly beat Derek to death. I really hope there aren't serious repercussions for Finnick. As much as I understand why he did it, I still wish he'd kept his anger under control.

After Finnick and Snow's conversation ended, I could tell he seemed rattled. A bit relieved, but still disturbed. Even now as he jokes and chats with everyone, I can tell it's a bit forced. As if he's trying to relieve his nerves of the tension I feel in his hand. In the way his shoulders are stiff and the way his neck looks rigid. Something is still bothering him.

I give Finnick's left hand a squeeze and a vein in his neck twitches as he registers this, but continues the conversation to keep everyone else oblivious. "—sleeping on the sand at sunset, the sun is mostly harmless at that point so I knew I wouldn't get burnt."

"Can't ruin your image, of course not." Yurol interrupts and condescendingly jokes.

Finnick winks at her. "You know me too well already." We all laugh, and then Finnick continues. "So I was sleeping at sunset when I hear this almost scraping sound. Like wet sand being forcefully pushed to the side. I was startled and instantly woke up." I wonder if he was startled because he was having a nightmare—he was on the sand which was a deadly component in his game. "And I see this beautiful green sea turtle digging up the sand. This went on for a while, and I watched it lay its hundred or so eggs. One right after the other. It was incredible. I've never seen it before or since then. But when it finished and pushed the sand back in the hole, the turtle just turned its head and looked at me. We stared at each other for about a minute before it crawled towards me. Of course I was as still as a statue this whole time, they're easily frightened creatures you know. And it came right up to me, staring at me without blinking. Then, suddenly, it bit my hat and made a break for the shore. I mean as fast as a turtle can move, but once it had my hat in its mouth, it turned and went straight for the water. The turtle struggled at first as the initial waves on shore crashed on it, but eventually it made it past that point and just swam off with my hat. It went all the way out with my hat floating on the surface until I couldn't see it among the waves."

We're all looking at Finnick with a slight amount of skepticism. It sounds completely fictitious, but why would he lie? He's chuckling as he undoubtedly replays this in his head, but then he realizes we're all staring at him. "What? I'm not lying. That actually happened."

Cameron speaks up. "I believe you. That happened to me too."

"See!" Finnick exclaims. "It happens to people."

"It definitely does." Cameron says with a hint of irony.

Finnick eyes him and sees Cameron is messing with him. "Who's the liar now?"

We all begin to laugh and Yurol nods her head. "We believe you Finnick."

"Whatever." He grumbles and turns his head up feigning offense. "The turtle knows it happened."

This makes everyone laugh and Finnick smiles. I whisper to him. "I'll believe you. I know you're not a liar."

I notice Kenin's head shift in our direction, and something flickers in Finnick's eyes. I'm sure he feels guilty since he did in a way lie to me about Snow meeting with him mainly for business. But it's a protective mechanism so I won't worry—it's not the sort of lie worth getting angry over. It was also to protect him too, I'm sure. That is something I can accept and move past.

Finnick leans down and kisses my right cheek. "Thank you."

I give him a smile.

"Look at that." Joa breathes in amazement.

Finnick and I turn our heads to the front, and see the crowd of vendors and colorful decorations. It is bustling with people, and with each step an assortment of delicious smells fill our noses. This is a treat for all of the Denfezes and I. Our entire life we never went to this because: one, we didn't know about it; two, none of us would have been able to afford it. Not with Yurol helping out with her family, and then supporting two younger brothers. Not with me just making enough to have a little bit of spending money, and not with Joln paying for his parents. It's one of the luxuries of Four none of us could have afforded.

But because of Kenin, we can. A terrible price which we all would have gladly gone without. Now that we can though, we will. Especially since Cameron is the one who suggested it. Working within the market crowd has its benefits because Cameron is the only one among us who can't afford this, and technically, I can't either, but the Denfezes have never been stingy even when we were poor.

"C'mon Annie, let's go." Joa excitedly says and tugs on my free hand inevitably jerking Finnick along. "Oh." He says realizing the chain reaction. "I mean, you guys enjoy the market, I'll uh—"

"What do you want to look at?" Finnick interrupts before Joa can finish. "Are you hungry? I know how much you like to eat."

My heart instantly melts because I'm so touched Finnick is not being exclusive towards Joa, but then I see Yurol bite her lip because Kenin is obviously coming with us too. As much as things have gotten better, there's still an insurmountable amount of tension between the two of them. Kenin's tried to forgive Yurol, possibly has, but won't spend too much time with her still. And Joa, I'm sure hasn't thought about the effect it has on Yurol since he chose me to spend time with him rather than her. I know it's simply because I've been spending time with him while Yurol's been spending time with Cameron. It's her first boyfriend, and she's smitten. But now there's a sadness.

"You guys go on ahead." I tell the three grinning boys. "I'm going to talk with Yurol about when we should meet up for the entertainment."

They all nod and take off towards a vendor selling cooked baby octopi on a stick. Cameron understands Yurol's sadness, and discreetly stands off to the side as I go over to her. She attempts to smile. "It's good. He came out with us. And Finnick is being kind to Joa. It's good."

I take her hand. "Yurol, I'm sorry."

"Oh Annie, it's not your fault." She emphasizes. Then she admits. "Sometimes I do get really jealous, but I mean, things change. Kenin will never be the same after his game, and Joa won't be either because of Kenin's change. It should have been expected everyone would be affected." Yurol tries to ease me. "It's like you said, things will get better. It'll just take time. I see him starting to come around, and that's more than what I imagined after seeing how different he was. And Joa, I know he's been lonely. It's just with Cameron…"

I smile and squeeze her hand. "It's hard to stay away. I know. Finnick and I had months of constant contact so it's easier to be with him and other people. You and Cameron are new, as time passes, it'll get easier and you'll be there for Joa more. Don't for a moment feel too bad. You're a good sister. They know that."

Yurol smiles and some of that sadness is erased. "You are too. I love you."

"I love you too." And I give her a hug. "We'll see you in an hour, okay? The bonfire and show starts in the center of the market, right?"

"Yes." Yurol replies. She holds onto the hug for a little bit longer, and then releases me. "Go, have fun. I'm happy with Cameron. I'll be fine. Better, I'll be good."

I hold her hand, and nod. "See you."

"Bye." Yurol softly says.

I begin to walk away and wave to Yurol and Cameron who has gone back over to Yurol and wrapped an arm around her. At the octopus vendor, Finnick, Kenin, and Joa are acting like children and letting tentacles dangle from their mouths. Finnick sees me and plants a tentacley kiss on my mouth. In response, I open my mouth and bite the tentacles and pull my head back. An unsuspecting Finnick widens his eyes as the baby octopus slides out of his mouth and dangles from my mouth. The head of the octopus hits my chin, and I can feel the wetness from Finnick's spit.

While Finnick and I laugh, Joa and Kenin watch. Joa comments. "That's gross."

"You won't think so in a few years." Finnick responds.

I slap Finnick in the chest and shoot him my protective-sister look. I take the octopus out of my mouth, and tell Joa. "It's really gross. Stay away from girls."

Joa rolls his eyes and stuffs another octopus in his mouth. Kenin is munching on his octopus, and I finish the one in my hand as Finnick takes his last one off his stick. The baby octopi have been fried in some kind of batter giving it a crunchy covering which is completely unhealthy since I can taste the oil, but so very delicious. We finish the octopi and throw away the sticks in the occasionally placed plastic bags.

The next vendor we visit is selling fire-baked muscles with various toppings. Lemon, seaweed, salt, pepper, chili powder, a white cream, red sauce, or plain. There's a fairly long line, so Finnick and I wait while Kenin and Joa go off to a vendor with a shorter line for an in-between line waiting snack. Finnick kisses the top of my head, and I lean against his left arm. I'm glad to see he's visibly relaxed and no longer thinking of his meeting with Snow. Despite his playful demeanor, I know the damage beneath, so it's nice to see Finnick enjoying himself.

I kiss his left triceps, and feel his head shift down to look at me. I shift my eyes up and whisper. "I love you."

Finnick's sea green eyes reveal a flooding of emotions and they sparkle with a mixture of everything. He leans down and gently presses his lips to mine. "I love you too."

Instantly my entire body warms. It's something I already know, but hearing it always feels new and refreshing. We part from our brief kiss, and I put my head to Finnick's arm again. We step forward with the slowly moving line, and I tell him. "You're good with Kenin and Joa. That means a lot to me."

"I know." He warmly says. "They're good guys. I like them."

"You and Kenin are close, right?" I ask.

Finnick nods and shrugs at the same time. "In a way. We're two people bonded by a similar past. I can help him more than most. It counts for a lot, but it's not the sort of thing you want to have in common with someone else. He's closer to his family. Even though it may not always seem that way. In the end, his loyalty will lie with you guys."

"His loyalty?" I question.

"What I mean is that, he would do anything for all of you. With me, he has his limits. I know that." Finnick states. "It's only expected."

I press my cheek to Finnick's muscle, and wrap my left arm around his left. "Have you been alone this whole time? Aside from the various girls."

Finnick rests his head on top of mine. "I have Mags. She's my family."

My right hand squeezes our entwined fingers. "How did you bear it?"

"Mags helped a lot, I found a purpose, and I kept a lot of company." I hear some pain in his voice. "Being a victor takes away a lot. But in moments like these, they make up for that loss."

"I'm glad." I softly say.

Finnick breathes in and is about to say something, but Kenin and Joa abruptly appear. Joa excitedly begins to chatter. "They're selling lights shaped like a fish! Can you believe it? They're made out of colorful papers, and you light a candle in the fish's belly. And then there was this other stall that has fish eggs. You spread the eggs on a cracker, and eat it like that!"

It does sound extremely strange. I've had fish eggs in soup, but not on a cracker. To confirm this odd food, Kenin nods. "I know, it sounds gross, but it's actually quite good."

"So where's our sample?" Finnick teases.

Kenin and Joa look guilty. Kenin attempts to play it off. "Well, if we had known you would have wanted to try that…"

"You know now." I counter.

"Fine." Kenin gives up while shooting me a look. "We'll be right back."

I hear Joa tell Kenin as they run off. "We can eat even more!"

Finnick whispers in my ear. "You're rather bossy."

I blush. "Well…"

"I'm kidding. You can because you're close with them." He grins.

Finnick understands the familial relationship I have with the Denfezes. It's more than what I could have asked for. A few have thought that because the Denfezes aren't my family by blood that I'd eventually choose them over the Denfezes, but that was their mistake. I'll always stand by the Denfezes. And I'll definitely stand by the guy who understands this.

* * *

_Finnick POV_

I'm terrified. Scared beyond an inconceivable fear. Am I really here? Is this really it? Snow's warning of how close I came to losing the person I am in love with still hangs freshly in my mind. It can't be scrubbed clean, I can't forget. Am I risking all of this so selfishly?

Annie gently kisses my jaw, and my eyes close in pleasure. _Don't think about Snow_, I tell myself. _She's safe, you're with her now._

Annie kisses my throat and a groan escapes my lips. I'm hers. I'm too far in. Even if I wanted to, even though I should, I can't go back. I need her. Annie is my everything.

"Finnick." Her voice is a whisper. "Tell me what you're thinking about."

I open my eyes, and Annie has her chin to my chest. I reach up and stroke her hair. "I don't think I could ever really live again without you."

She raises a hand to my face, and strokes my cheek. The bracelet I made for her slides down from her wrist. "I don't want to live without you."

Annie pulls herself up along my body, and presses her lips to mine. I sink beneath this incredible euphoria and give long, deep kisses. My entire body is alive with the sensation of fire, but the type of fire which ignites your soul. Giving you every reason as to why we struggle and fight to keep going in this life no matter the previous pain.

I hold Annie against me, and turn her onto her back so now I'm on top. She's looking up at me, and encased within the barriers of my arms—I know my duty is to protect her. I lower my head and kiss her lips, her cheek, her throat, her collarbone. My hands wander beneath her bedtime top, and I slowly lift the fabric above her head. Annie extends her arms over her head, and then holds my arms with her hands. She was wearing nothing beneath her top, so I'm gazing at her bare upper body.

Small breasts have been revealed, and I can't get over the fact how perfect she is. Not just because she's topless, but because how beautiful the image of Annie is to me. No one else can ever compare. Though there will always be other girls who are more attractive, none of them will ever be as beautiful as Annie. My Annie. She is the only one meant for me.

I kiss her collarbone again, and then kiss her breasts. Annie grips my arms, and begins to breathe with a bit more force. I caress her nipples with my tongue, and Annie wraps her legs around mine. My lips work their way back to the center, and I kiss her sternum all the way down to her navel. By now, Annie is letting out soft moans, and digging her nails into my arms. With each kiss, she tears at my flesh.

Annie releases her grip and grabs the comforter, and I know this is her way of signaling I should continue. Now that my arms are free, I lower them and curl my fingers over the top of her loose white pants. Inch by inch I lower her pants until the most intimate of parts is exposed. I pull the pants off one leg at time, and let them drop to the floor. Annie pulls on the comforter and tenses in pleasure as I kiss the soft flesh. She arches her back and slightly twists to her right unable to fight the waves of stimulation.

I insert two fingers as I caress the outer pleasure site with my tongue. A loud high moan escapes Annie's and several softer ones follow. Each stroke is greeted with these moans. She comes and my fingers are enveloped in her wonderful wetness. I raise myself back up to her face, and kiss her cheek. I want Annie to know this is more than about sex. It's an action of love. Because I am in love with her. I love her so much. And I've never done this before.

Annie is breathing heavily, and her eyes are sparkling. She puts her hands on my arms again, and slightly lifts herself off the bed. "I love you too." She kisses me, and takes her left hand off my right arm, to stroke my cheek. "I love you." She tells me again. "And I'm sure."

Then both her hands go down to my pants, and begin to lower them. When they're further down, she lifts her legs, and pulls my pants down to my calves with her toes. I use my own feet now to get my pants off. With one last tug, there is nothing separating our bare bodies. I am aware of how close our bodies are, not quite touching just yet. This is way you're supposed to feel moments before you make love for the first time.

Annie softly swallows, and puts her hands to my arms once more. For support, as something to grip, to hold on to me. She is encased in my arms and I never want to let her go. I lower my body and kiss her throat, her jaw, her cheek, her lips. Annie holds our kiss, and then pulls her head back. There's trust in her eyes—no fear, only certainty. And that's my undoing. I can't hold back any longer.

I kiss Annie, and push in.

Something this pure can't be described. It's impossible to know how to explain. There are so many different components—the physical and emotional connection—that every aspect gets blurred into one big whole. Many different things which can never be separated from each other. They coincide; one without the other would be nothing at all. The only way to know, to understand, is to experience.

I've never known what I was missing. But Annie is the only one who could make me feel this way. Make me see things this way. And as our bodies move together, as our complementary moans mingle together, our two beings mold into a single inseparable piece. To tear this piece back into its original two pieces would leave fragments of the other half on each side of the original, and would kill the whole. Our bodies move as one, and I hold her in my arms against my chest. Annie's face is buried into the side of neck, and her hands are gripping my back.

We have all the time in the world.

* * *

_Annie POV_

It's been a few days since Finnick and I made love for the first time. Yet even now, just the presence of him standing next to me gives me those chills all over. Nothing has been lost in the final act. And I love that. We're standing at the docks waiting for one of the sailors to bring Finnick's boat in.

"I thought you had one of the simpler boats." I say to Finnick.

"I do." He says. "But I also have a fishing boat."

"You do?" I ask surprised.

He smiles a bit sheepishly. "It must seem kind of petty. But I like to go fishing."

I'm confused. "You fish as an income?"

"No." Finnick laughs and puts an arm around me. "The Capitol does take most of the fish I catch, but I give a fifth of what I catch to the community homes."

"How often do you do this?" It's one surprising thing after another.

Finnick waves to the guy bringing in his sailboat. "Once a month. The fishermen would get angry if I did this every day. This is their living. I do it for free. I don't want to intrude on their territory."

The guy steps onto the dock and hands Finnick the rope tied to the sailboat's side. "Here you go Finnick. You must be a special lady." The guy says to me. "Finnick's never brought company out before."

"She's very special, Greg." Finnick tells Greg and hands him a tip of a silver coin. "I love her."

This makes me blush, and Greg laughs walking away. "I can tell. She's turning red."

Finnick looks at me and sloppily kisses my cheek. "Is the sun too hot?"

I wrinkle my nose at him. "Very funny."

"Why thank you, I know I am." He laughs and takes my hand. "C'mon."

The same apprehension consumes me for a second, but Finnick leans his face into view and I focus on his eyes. They're trustworthy and endearing. "It's okay Annie." He tells me. I breathe in, and allow him to lead us into the boat. Finnick eases me onto the seat, and steps away towards the small steering wheel. The fear immediately comes back, but I do my best to sit still and hide the terror. He turns around to check on me, and I give him my best smile, and I must fool him because he nods and turns his back to me again to guide the boat away from the docks.

I can hear the ocean waves passing us by, and we're gliding so smoothly it's like we can fly. Finnick is here with me so I am safe. But I'm still frightened with each bump of a wave. My eyes are wide open and all I can see, is the limitless water of the sea. The panic is rising in my chest. And I really am trying my best. There are no green eyes to keep my grounded. We're out at sea and I'm astounded. What am I doing here? This is my greatest fear.

Suddenly the world goes silent. It's nice. I can't hear the waves or the boat on the surface of the ocean. It makes this world less real. Slowly the world disappears from view, and all I can sense is a bright light. This is better. I'm safe from what's outside of here. And I can deal with the pressure on the side of my head. A slight discomfort to replace the fear is always a better trade off.

I can be anywhere in Panem right now. Maybe that place I talked about with Finnick. Where people live freely away from the terror of reapings or uphill battle of struggle. What if that place is beyond the borders of Four? Beyond the borders of any district. It could exist. It could. Do we even truly know what is out there? In the land the Capitol doesn't contain the districts to. I could climb a mountain and look out at the world. There would be children running freely without the worry of death. Parents would laugh without the worry of their children dying. There would be no Hunger Games. We would just live.

In that world, I could have a family. Be the parent my parents never were. I would have Finnick by my side and we would watch our children grow up. And they wouldn't be reaped. They would learn to fish or run or sew or anything they wanted to. We would watch them warmly with loving hearts, and as they grew up, Finnick and I would grow old together. We would teach our children about the Hunger Games when they were old enough, and how their father was a part of that history.

Yes, that is where I am. _Annie._ Where did that come from? I'm in this world. There shouldn't be any whispers. _Annie._ Again. Who is that? _Annie…can't take…off the wheel…scared…open your…_ It's a familiar voice. Isn't it the one I want to spend my life with, have children with, grow old with?

"Annie, I'm here. Open your eyes. Focus on me. Once we're on still water I can be next to you, but I have to steer the boat for now. Please, open your eyes."

I'm being drawn away from the world I created, and towards the real person who isn't a part of the made up. They sounded so sad.

"I'm here Annie. It's okay." Finnick tells me again. I open my eyes, and slowly remove my hands from my ears. He glances over his shoulder, and great relief is suddenly displayed. "You're safe."

I think of Finnick being a father and telling our kids that he survived the Sixty-Fifth Hunger Games. "Is that a hard thing to say?"

He glances back again long enough to ask. "Telling you you're safe? No, why?"

"Being a victor and all. It shows that none of us really are safe. So I was wondering, since you survived, does it seem silly to tell people they're safe?" I try to explain.

Finnick sighs and his voice is low. "Most are safe I suppose. It's the select few who aren't. Sometimes I don't feel safe, and I think, everyone else shouldn't feel safe either. Down the line of generations, one of theirs may be reaped. And even if you're a victor, you keep the memories."

I try to assure him. "Your night terrors have stopped."

"They have. But I still have nightmares sometimes. I'll awake with a panic and that dreaded fear, that maybe I'm back in the arena, consumes me. But then you're there, and I know I'm safe. You're real, and the nightmares aren't." He tells me.

We're on still water, and Finnick steps away from the wheel to take a seat next to me. I put an arm around his waist. "You pull me back into reality."

Finnick gives me a light kiss. "I'm glad I can always get you back to me."

He reaches under the seat and pulls out a long coil of rope. I look at it curiously. "Rope?"

"To make a net. I enjoy the process of tying knots." Finnick replies.

"I remember that." I tell him. "It's therapeutic."

He smiles and nods and begins tying a knot with nimble fingers which must be hard since his right hand can barely do anything still. I watch him do several loops and twists and unders and overs, and it's just too complicated for me to keep up. It doesn't even make sense to me how you can make a net from rope. Finnick tightens a knot, and looks at me. "Want to learn?"

I laugh and shake my head. "Not at all. Tying knots can be your thing."

He laughs and agrees. "Fair enough. Thought I would offer."

* * *

_Finnick POV_

I can feel Annie's eyes on me. I pull the rope through the loop, and twist it around for another loop. She bites her lips, and I know there's something on her mind. I turn my head to gaze at my beautiful girl. "Something on your mind?"

Annie runs a hand through her frizzing hair. "I'm not saying I want one now, and I'm not trying to freak you out. But I was so caught up in the moment, and well, you didn't use anything when we…" She shyly smiles.

"Made love." I finish for her. And even those words sound so strange. I made love to Annie. It's incredible. But why is she bringing this up? And why would I freak out? And what doesn't she want now? Then it's as if I can hear the gears in my head clicking as I realize what she means. It's almost impossible to completely hide the pain in my voice. "You're wondering about a baby."

"I mean, the chances are slim, but since we didn't use anything, it's possible. I'm not trying to make it happen through power of thought, but it's a possibility." Annie tries to get out.

That's another thing I'm depriving her of. We could never get married. Never have a family. It's all dreams and ashes. All the if's that can never be. "Annie…"

"I'm not trying to freak you out Finnick, never mind, I'm sure it's fine. I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry." She hastily says.

"Annie," I repeat, "it's not that I'm worried. I love you, I don't want to be with anyone else. It's only natural these things come to mind. But, having a baby is impossible."

She bites her lips and I see disappointment. "Because you're a victor."

"No. Well, yes. Not because of what you're probably thinking though. It's not because I survived and wouldn't want to bring a child into this world. But I can't produce a child." Annie gives me a confused look. "Because I have business in the Capitol on a regular basis, they give us these pills to make us sterile. It's a policy they have. So it's not that I don't want to, I literally can't."

Annie gives me a faint smile. "I understand. It's out of your hands." She kisses my left shoulder, and presses her cheek to my skin. "This means Kenin is sterile too, doesn't it?"

I never thought about that for some reason. "It does."

She contemplates this for a while, and I continue to tie knots which is exactly what I need right now. I've never thought about these consequences for Annie. I was so caught up in being in love, and worrying for her safety, I never thought about the quality of the future she would have with me. Unmarried, childless; all things I'm sure she eventually wants. I would want them myself if given the chance. Is it fair for me to deny her these things?

The guilt is overpowering, and I almost flinch when a hand cups my chin and turns my face. Annie is staring into my eyes, and she just smiles at me. No words, only smiling. A bit confused, I ask. "What?"

Annie widens her smile and kisses my lips. "Nothing." She grins. "I love you. Just thought you should know that."

And again I know that I could never walk away from this. Our happiness is flexible as long as we're with each other.

* * *

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

hope you enjoyed it, i have a break coming up this week for 4 days, so ill try to get as much writing done as possible since I'm tired of going out and feel like being a recluse


	22. Chapter 22: In Seconds

**enjoy the following chapters, yes i said chapters, the 2 longest ones are approximately the same amount of words i use in one chapter, i just felt like i needed to separate these. ill be updating over my fall break that way i don't leave everyone hanging for too long, i know how frustrating it is since i haven't been good at updating. ENJOY! (ps-if there's a lot of typos from chapter 22-29; please excuse it since i just finished them at like 1 a.m) now enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two: In Seconds**

_Annie POV_

I hold Finnick within me, both our heartbeats pounding within our chests reaching out towards each other. My fingernails are digging into his firm back and I can feel his sweat on my fingertips. Our bodies are drenched in the salty liquid—we're utterly soaked and intermingled. Tangled up among one another. And it's so beautiful that I am lost in it.

Finnick reaches back with his arm and slowly entwines a hand with mine; one after the other raising them above my head. Our fingers interlocked and clenched. I grip his hands tightly to have something to hold onto as he assertively, but gently moves his hips. He plants long kisses on my throat where long vibrations echo to fill the room. Finnick presses his face onto the bed next to my head, and when I hear his deep exhale of pleasure it does something to me. It's like—it washes over me. Filling every pore spreading downwards into everything I am. It's as if, it's all I've ever known my entire life.

His hands squeeze mine tightly as he fights for control. There's a feel of desperation that begins to radiate from Finnick. Almost as if he's afraid that I'll slip from his arms. I can feel it with each rhythmical stroke as he holds me closely after each miniscule separation. He's breathing heavily, and his breath is hot on my cheek. I slightly turn my head so I can look into his eyes.

Time stops.

I'm looking up at Finnick, and he's looking down at me. He tightens his grip, and our hands are strained against each other. He's pushed all the way inside me, and I wrap my legs around his to pull him in further if that's possible. Our bodies are aching in all the good ways; rigid with tension and desire and love. Finnick's chest is forcibly pushing against mine as he quickly inhales and exhales through his nose. All his tendons and veins prominently stick out beneath his sticky flesh. He releases my left hand, so I reach up and place my palm on his throat feeling that tendon where the skin is stretched tightly across.

Finnick's closes his eyes. There's an assortment of emotions I can't pick through. Happiness, yet pain. Love, yet guilt. Joy, yet sadness. Desire, yet shame. Certainty, yet doubt. It's all so confusing, yet I understand. Finnick lowers his head, and presses his face into the side of my throat. His lips resting on my collarbone. I hold him there with my hand at the base of his neck.

He sighs deeply, and slowly lifts his head. With the very surface of our lips barely touching, Finnick whispers. "I love you."

My blood turns to ice. And amidst the heat, a chill sweeps over my body. His words electrify me, and jolt me to life. I'll never want to hear anything else but those words from Finnick. I press my lips to his. "Finnick Odair, you're the only one for me."

* * *

_Finnick POV_

I hold Annie in my arms as we stand next to the train which will take Kenin and I to the Capitol. She's angry with me, but trying to salvage the little time we have left. Annie lifts her head. "You should have told me."

"I'm sorry." I whisper.

"You had all this time to tell me." She says.

"I know." I reply. I kiss Annie's cheek. "Snow mentioned it when we talked, and I forgot until they called this morning."

Annie sadly sighs. "I wish you could stay."

I put my hand in her hair. "You know I do too. I'll only be gone a few days. Then I'll be back, I promise."

"Why does the Capitol want you there so much? You already won their stupid game, what more could they want?" Annie angrily voices.

_They want more than you know._ Just because I won, doesn't mean I'm free. It's a truth I went along with until recently. I stroke her hair, and tuck some of it behind her ear. "Certain victors get to conduct business there."

"Why don't you just say no? Unless you want to go there." Annie says.

"I'd much rather stay with you indefinitely. But I can't say no." I hear the pain in my voice. _If you knew what I did, you'd hate me. And I can't tell you why because it'd be your death sentence. Non-victors are not allowed to know. There's so much I wish I could say, but I'm forbidden._ "Annie, trust me. I have to. Look at me." I gently say and she turns her head back to me. "I love you. More than anything. You're my life. If I could stay, I would."

Annie finally nods. "I believe you."

"Thank you." I pull her closer and give her one more kiss. It'll be our last kiss for a while. I won't have her lying next to me every time I awake. All I want is to savor this. I hold onto our kiss for as long as I can.

Annie holds onto me until the train bell signals the last call since everyone is waiting on me. She looks at the train with distaste, but she steps back. "Go. We've kept them waiting longer than what they're willing. I'll see you in a few days." It almost sounds like a question.

To assure her, I say. "A few days, and I'll be back with you."

Annie smiles, and nods again as I step towards the train. I put one foot inside the door and look back. She gives me a small wave. "I love you Finnick."

"I love you Annie." I tell her as I take my last step in. Once I've cleared the doorway, it slides shut and the train instantly begins moving forward to pick up speed. I wave as Annie disappears into the distance.

I'm staring out the window where an image of Annie is held within my mind, when someone says from the side. "Quite a lovely sweetheart you have there."

I quickly spin to my side and see Haymitch. "What are you doing here? I thought only the attractive victors we're coming."

Haymitch holds a hand to his chest. "Ow, that stung Odair. You really need to be considerate of other's feelings."

Our dialogue will be caught on the microphones placed within this cart, but despite what Snow says, we know they don't have eyes everywhere. After all, why would they need to keep a visual surveillance on a transportation filled with their employees? So Haymitch and I briefly lean forward, clasp arms, and give a slap on each other's back.

When we step back, Haymitch runs a hand through his oily hair. "If you were quicker in the head Odair, you would remember all mentors, along with the attractive victors, are summoned to the Capitol before the Victory Tour. To go over protocol and all that when the victor visits our district. In which case, it'll be your victor doing the visiting. A nice change from having the arrogant imbeciles of One and Two."

I laugh and nod. "I'm sure it is. Kenin is quite the gentlemen."

Haymitch sarcastically nods with wide eyes and reaches for a bottle of spirits. "I'm sure he is. Running around the Capitol on his escapades. Victor like mentor I suppose."

"Only the best." I reply.

Haymitch smiles and rolls his eyes. "Only the best." He repeats and hands me a glass filled halfway. We clank our glasses together and drink to that. Only the best. Because only the best win their games, and only we pay the price of having survived.

We take a seat in two chairs, and Haymitch swirls his spirits in his glass. "So, when did this little romance of yours start up? Or is it just another silly girl?"

I know what he's getting at. One of the things which made me invaluable to the rebellion was that the Capitol had no leverage to hold against me. Having nothing to lose makes you that much more dangerous. It's one of the reasons Haymitch readily accepted my alliance. I was like him. Nothing to lose.

I finish my glass and hold it out to him to refill. "I love her."

Haymitch pours my glass nearly to the brim. "Then you better drink more. You can only keep this up for so long."

"Is that a threat?" I ask a bit angrily.

He holds his hands up but gives me a stern look. "All I'm saying kid is that you're affairs in the Capitol are no secret. I'm a bit surprised she's with you considering how often they screen your stays."

I lose the attitude because I understand what Haymitch means. "She doesn't watch the screens."

"Really?" He asks clearly surprised. Haymitch mulls this over with a long drink. "Then I hope all goes well. Don't do anything stupid."

"That's why I'm here." I tell him starting to feel the affects of the spirits. "You don't ever say no."

Very bitterly, Haymitch laughs. "Or use the arena against the gamemakers' intentions."

We clank our glasses to my situation and his past. Several minutes of silence past as we drink ourselves drunker and think separate thoughts. I'm staring at the ceiling when I hear a door slide open and I look over my shoulder. Kenin is in our cart watching us. He takes a seat across from Haymitch, and holds a glass up since Haymitch is hogging the almost empty bottle of spirits.

I watch Haymitch pour Kenin a glass, before I come to. "Hey." I accuse. "He's not allowed to drink."

Kenin simply rolls his eyes and pointedly takes a long drink out of his glass. "You're barely older than me Finnick."

"Kids got a point." Haymitch sides with him. He tips the last of the spirits into his mouth, and unsteadily stands up to grab another bottle. He pulls the top off with his mouth and carelessly spits it onto the floor. "I think we're all allowed to drink considering. Look at Six, be glad he's not a morphling addict."

Haymitch plops down and pours himself another glass, and then refills Kenin who's already finished his. I sit up in my chair, and steady myself by grabbing the armrest. "Annie or Yurol would not condone such behavior."

"Would they condone yours?" Kenin shoots back. My face falls, and Kenin looks apologetic. "I didn't mean it the way you're thinking. You don't drink around Annie. That's all I meant."

There's a loud laugh/snort from Haymitch who covers his mouth. "I'm sorry. It's just you two are rather amusing. It sounds like you're dating his sister." We both look at Haymitch who then nods in understanding. "Ah, I see. So the girl I saw is Annie." He points to Kenin with his pointer-finger while the rest of his fingers grip his glass. "She's your sister?"

Kenin takes a drink. "Technically. She's like family."

Haymitch laughs again and falls back into his seat. "Well that must be interesting. Don't you think so Mags?"

Mags? I turn around and see Mags standing behind me. "Mags!" I get up and give her a big hug.

"Not too tightly Finnick, you'll break all the bones in this old lady's body." She warmly says as I take a seat again. Then she walks over to Haymitch and smacks the back of his head. "And don't laugh at two people in love. I think it's romantic."

Haymitch ruefully rubs the back of his head, and comments. "You still got some kick in you sweetheart."

"There's a lot more where that came from." Mags playfully says. She takes a seat on my lap as if she's a teenager. "So, you forgot that I would be here too, huh?"

"C'mon Mags, you know I love you." I laugh.

"That I do." Mags responds. She turns to Kenin. "And you are far too young to be drinking with them."

Kenin moans. "Not you too."

Mags touches the scar around Kenin's eyebrows. "It would seem I have a lot to worry about." She looks back to me and lifts my right arm to bring my hand into view. "Between the both of you."

I pull my arm away and kiss Mags' cheek. "You'll worry yourself to death. Relax, have a drink."

Mags gets off my lap and shakes her hands. "Oh no Finnick. I'm far too old to be drinking with you youngsters. I'd much rather have a nap."

She leaves, and it's back to the three of us. Within minutes, Haymitch passes out in his seat with a dribble of saliva down his chin, to which Kenin shakes his head in disgust. I finish my glass but don't take anymore. My thoughts are already fuzzy. Kenin pours himself another glass and leans back.

He holds the spirits to his mouth, but doesn't take a sip. "It'll break Annie if she ever finds out about what goes on in the Capitol."

I slide up in my seat, and turn my head to him. "I know. But I love her. How am I supposed to stay away?"

"I don't know Finnick." Kenin says in a voice that sounds a thousand times older. "I'm just letting you know what will happen if she ever sees the screens."

"But she won't." I tell him. "She only watches it when there's a game."

She won't. I have to believe she won't. It's all I have to hold onto.

* * *

_Annie POV_

I smile shyly and nod. Yurol's eyes widen and she grasps my hands. "You guys did? When?"

I can't stop smiling. "About two weeks ago."

"Annie!" Yurol exclaims. "And you never told me?"

I begin to laugh. "I know, I'm sorry. It's just, well, I don't know. I didn't know how to bring _that_ up. Yurol," I say with so much happiness, "I love him so much."

She smiles deeply and really looks at me. Taking in the life I must be radiating with. There's no disapproval or holding of her tongue from saying something negative. And I know she's genuinely happy for the both of us. Truly happy.

Yurol gives my hand a squeeze. "Good, he makes you happy. That's all I care about."

I nod my head. "He's incredible. Extremely thoughtful and kind, not what you would typically expect from—"

There's a knock on the door and I stop talking. It's nighttime and Joa is in his room. Finnick and Kenin are gone, so there's no one else it could be.

"Were you expecting anyone?" I ask Yurol.

She shakes her head. "No. Who would be here at this hour?"

Yurol stands up releasing my hands and walks to the door. She opens the door and Cameron is on the other side. Excitedly she throws his arms around him, and he seems a bit stunned because it takes him a moment to return the hug. Something must be wrong because shortly after, he pulls her arms off him, and begins to talk. Yurol's body stiffens, and my heart drops. There's no way he's breaking things off with her. Is there? He can't be. Yet, why is he here?

Yurol slowly turns around with a concerned expression. She motions for Cameron to come in and I feel better because if they were breaking up, he wouldn't be coming in. They both walk to me with such downcast faces that I begin to feel a bit apprehensive. Yurol glances at Cameron who looks extremely uncomfortable. He takes her hand and that seems to be the push she needs.

Very unlike her, Yurol clears her throat to buy some time. Finally she uncertainly says. "Cameron says you should turn on the screen."

"Why?" I ask. What could that possibly have to do with me?

"He says it has to do with Finnick."

My heart plummets because maybe something's happened. I run into the other room and tear apart the couch looking for the remote. Did something happen to Finnick? Was there a terrible accident in the Capitol and they're announcing it as I look for the stupid remote? If something's happened to Finnick, I don't know what I would do because I love him so much and living without him doesn't seem to be an option—at first I don't comprehend what I'm seeing. Finnick is alive. He's okay. There's nothing wrong with him. Why did Cameron tell me to watch the screens? And then I see it.

Finnick pulls a Capitol girl towards him and embraces her in a passionate kiss.

The boy I love has been nothing more than an act. Everything I knew about him, everything I believed about him, every words he's ever spoken—it's all been a lie. And that's when my mind comes tumbling down.

* * *

_Finnick POV_

I hold the girl tightly to me so the cameras will show the image of the sex symbol everyone expects to see, but my insides are crawling as I count in my head attempting to go somewhere else and wondering how long this revolting act will last. Something begins to nag me, and no matter how hard I try I can't keep it at the back of my mind. It's different than the feeling of tremendous self-loathing and guilt. And somehow, this feeling is worse. Just when I think I can't take it anymore, the girl comes up to breathe.

Gratefully I pull away, and put my arm around her so we can walk out of the club. This way, I won't be forced to kiss her again. I've only been here a day and have had several clients already. Not including the several racy shots I've had to capture in front of the cameras. The only up side is that because of the upcoming Victory Tour, most of our time will be spent in meetings about the proper guidelines we're expected to follow as tensions will be high throughout the various districts. Which explains why my list has more crammed into it compared to the usual timeframe.

Several intimate shots later, I'm finally allowed to return to my hotel where the victors are staying. I step into Four's suite and close the door behind me. Finally back without the Capitol's watchful eye. I'm walking past Kenin's door to my room, when I hear Kenin pleading. Is there a girl in his room? Has he possibly fallen in love in the Capitol? I step closer to his door and listen.

"Please, just listen to me. It was wrong of me, but what else was I supposed to do?" He asks with desperation. The other person doesn't speak, but he resumes talking. "I had to fight for my survival too! You're not the only one who had a family to come back to!" Silence. Then. "I know I don't! But it's not so easy to simply pick up where I left things off with Yurol or Joa!" He begins to cry. "Annie is different. She was the only one who didn't expect me to be the same. Do you have any idea how difficult it's been seeing the way they look at me? How my entire family will never see me the same way because they know I killed the other district's children. I killed you! And I'm sorry!"

He's weeping and he says more softly. "Maybe I should have let you win. I should have, shouldn't I have? You told me you had six siblings to take care of. And when I watched what happened in my game, I realized you did what I have to do now. You sold yourself to take care of your siblings." Kenin's voice steadies. "No, I haven't forgotten what you told me. I'll tell them at the Victory Tour as I promised." He takes in a deep breath. "I'll tell them how you wanted them to know, that they need to take care of each other at the community homes and that none of them should do what you did because the reason you did what you did was so that none of them would ever have to go through that. You love them, and they are the last thing you thought about."

Kenin heavily sighs. "You don't need to thank me. I destroyed your life and your family. It's the very least I can do."

I step away from the door unable to listen anymore. Kenin is worse than what I expected. If he's verbally rather than mentally communicating with the voices, it's not a good sign. It means he might be mixing up delusions with reality. As I step into my room, I'm left feeling extremely hollow.

* * *

_Annie POV_

I see them. I hear them. I feel their eyes on me. They plead for me to say something, please, say something, just say something, anything, please. But I don't. How can I? What do I possibly have to say? The boy I love is a liar? We all know that. There's no denying the screens. So I say nothing. Instead, I sit here. Eyes staring into nothing.

* * *

_Finnick POV_

I'm so exhausted. Completely worn out. But I'll be seeing Annie in a few short moments. I quicken my pace so Kenin struggles to keep up. Finally he calls out. "Finnick, slow down. Wait for Mags."

Of course! I turn around, and sweep Mags up in my arms. "Sorry Mags, but I can't have you slow me down from seeing the girl I love."

She laughs and pinches my nose. "Normally I would find that offensive. I thought I was your one and only."

We begin to laugh and Kenin just shakes his head. In minutes we're at Kenin's house, and I set Mags down so I can knock on the door. Footsteps approach, and right when the door opens I receive a powerful _slap_ to the face. Yurol quickly closes the door again and shoves me back so I stumble on the stairs and fall to the ground.

Before Kenin or Mags can respond, Yurol hatefully but quietly spits out. "How dare you come here! Did you think you could toy with her heart like all those other stupid girls! Well congratulations Finnick Odair, the Capitol golden boy, you had us all fooled. You got to sleep with Annie, so _just leave_ now that you got what you wanted."

No! This can't be happening. I quickly get to my feet ignoring the throbbing pain. "It's not what you think Yurol, I love her." I try to plead so she'll understand.

Yurol raises her hand and advances towards me, but Kenin quickly grabs her arm and pulls her back. "C'mon, go inside. I'll deal with him."

Her whole body is trembling in anger, and I think for a moment she'll tell Kenin to back off. But Yurol breathes in deeply, and spitefully tells me. "I wish you had died in the Sixty-Fifth Hunger Games and maybe Minul would still be alive if he had a mentor who wasn't a selfish pig like you!"

Kenin gently ushers Yurol inside, and closes the door behind her. His head is down and he brushes his right foot on the edge of the first porch stair. "I never wanted this to happen. I really wish things were different because I know how much you both love each other." The extent of sadness in his voice surprises me. "I always told you I would be on her side if she ever found out though. That hasn't changed." Kenin looks up to hold eye contact. "You're not allowed here anymore Finnick. Don't make me tell you twice because if I have to, I won't forgive you. Annie doesn't deserve to be hurt like this, you know that. Don't make it worse."

He sighs and there's a look of apology. He gives me a nod, and opens the door to his house and closes it behind him. And just like that, I've lost my everything. You would think that to lose so much it would take a lot more time. But I guess that's a lesson I should have learned already. In seconds entire families are changed with the drawing of a name, in seconds their children are killed on the screens, in seconds you have it all and then you don't.

I don't realize Mags has taken my hand to lead me away until I'm being seated on her couch. And as she takes a seat next to me, I cry into her shoulder.

* * *

_Annie POV_

It seems so silly to hold on to. But a part of me can't let it go. I move my arm up and the seashell-sea glass bracelet slides down pass my wrist. I let my arm hang loosely down, and the bracelet slides up to my wrist. I move my arm up, and the bracelet slides down. How many girls have bracelets similar to mine? But I'll keep it because it marks me as another silly girl who fell for Finnick Odair's proclamations of love. It reminds me—I'm not different from the rest.

* * *

"You must have known." I quietly say to Kenin who is sitting on the edge of my bed. The sheets are pulled up all around me because it's the only comfort I can get from being surrounded by something other than Finnick. Finnick… It hurts just to think his name. "You both went to the Capitol. You must have known."

Kenin sits still and doesn't move because he knows I don't want him to reach out to comfort me. Because the only person I want to feel is Finnick, and he can't be here. Not after what he's done to me. And I hate myself for it. I watch Kenin as the guilt fills his face. "Things are different in the Capitol Annie. That's the most I can say."

I pull the sheets up even more. "You were both so vague about why you went there. And now I know it's because you both ran around dallying with their women. All those secrets." I heavily breathe out. "All those secrets. I'm so tired of secrets."

And I begin to cry.

* * *

Yurol sits against the wall as I press my back further into the corner of their living room. She reaches out to take my hand which is lying lifelessly next to me on the floor, but I immediately lift it up and place it in my lap. I don't mean to hurt her. But I don't want anyone touching me. She sadly sighs and folds her hands together. And I'm so glad she doesn't say anything because I know a million words must be eating away her tongue. There are so many things she wants to ask me, but she doesn't have to because I know it. I don't want to talk though. Not to her. She was always right about him. And a part of me is so angry that she saw him for what he was when I was in denial. Yurol wasn't supposed to be right about this, and I know she didn't want to be, but she was. And for that, I hate her.

She sits with me for a few hours while I stare at the leg of a table. Eventually she leaves because she has a life to continue with, and I don't.

* * *

Joa doesn't say anything while I watch him build the ship I've broken so many pieces of. Once in awhile he'll look up to see how I'm doing, but I know I have that vacant expression. All the life seems to have been sapped out of me. So now I just watch other people live their lives. I watch Joa move some pieces around and find the one he's looking for.

This movement has uncovered a few other pieces, and one of them looks very familiar. Then I remember why. It's the piece Finnick turned over in his hands when he was trying to help build the model, but left to cook Joa some of that seaweed pancake dish. Everything seems to be tainted with the memory of Finnick. I reach out, which surprises Joa that I've actually moved, and I take that piece in my hand. And for the first time, I deliberately break a piece of the model. It gives a soft _snap_.

Joa looks at the pieces in my hands, and I must be crying because my cheeks are wet. Very gently he takes them from my hands and puts them in the pile of the other pieces I've broken. He must have realized what they meant to me. And for the first time, Joa doesn't scold me for breaking a part of the model. He turns his eyes on me, and then he silently returns to building the ship.

* * *

_Finnick POV_

There's a knock on my door, and it's stupid I hope, but I can't help but hope that maybe it's Annie. It's been a little over two weeks since I've seen her. Tomorrow Kenin and I leave for the Victory Tour. Maybe Kenin has somehow told Annie of our situation. And it's so selfish I want this because it puts her life in danger, but being apart is unbearable. I open the door, and see Joa.

At first he seems surprised and he reaches up to stroke his chin and jaw. It takes me a moment to realize he's gesturing about me. I feel my chin then jaw, and feel the long overdue facial hair. It's a bit embarrassing that Joa's surprised at my appearance. But I haven't had the will to do anything but mope.

"Joa." I finally say, my voice hoarse. "What are you doing here?"

He holds up a letter. "I wanted to give you this letter from Annie."

I can't control myself. I reach out and tear it from his hands, and unfold it so quickly it almost tears. My hands are shaking as I begin to read, but the excitement quickly fades.

_This isn't actually a note from Annie. I just said that because I'm guessing the Capitol can hear us. But I heard you and Kenin talking inside the kitchen the day you came over for dinner, and I know you guys sell your bodies in the Capitol. I believe you love her. I don't think you're a bad guy. No one would if they knew what was really happening. But I also heard Kenin say, he was protecting us. And you said, non-victors weren't allowed to know. So I'm guessing if we know the truth, our lives will be in danger. If I could tell Annie, I would. I always knew you were the good guy._

_Please burn this or something just in case. I just wanted you to know that not everyone hates you._

I look up and I can feel tears in my eyes. Joa knows I've finished reading, and he quietly says. "I'm sorry." Then he walks away, down the porch, and back to his house.

* * *

Mags places a bowl of hot soup in front of me. "You need to eat something Finnick. You have the Victory Tour in a few hours. And you've lost a lot of weight. They won't be happy about that."

"Like I care what makes them happy!" I yell, not at her, but in general. "They've destroyed everything!"

She rubs my back unbothered by my outburst. "I know dear, I know. Be glad she's alive though. There are worst fates for the ones we-victors love."

I don't bother to wipe away the tear that falls from my eye. "I don't know how you or Haymitch got through what they did to your families and loved ones."

"The fire keeps us burning Finnick. It's more than just about us. Personal reasons, yes. But it extends beyond the borders of those who have had suffered at the Capitol's hands." Mags is talking about us being a part of the rebellion. Maybe she's right. Annie wouldn't be safe no matter what I did. Until the Capitol is brought down, no one is safe. It's as Annie asked. I guess it should have been hard to tell her she was safe since I'm the one who brought upon her suffering.

I stir my soup but don't eat. "Maybe it is for the best. I wouldn't be able to marry her, give her a family. Nothing. Only my words while she would have to stand to the side while I continued my affairs."

"I don't think it's for the best Finnick." Mags tells me, and climbs onto the stool next to me. "You both are in love. There's nothing about that being the best when it's torn apart. It's the best thing you can do at this point."

I lean my head against Mags' shoulder, slightly hoping she doesn't fall over from the weight. Mostly though, I'm glad she's here for me.

* * *

_Annie POV_

I'm watching the Victory Tour. It's the first time I've seen Finnick live. I've watched reruns of his stays at the Capitol. But I haven't seen him alive at the current time until now. He looks tired, the stylists must have hidden this by putting on makeup, but I can see it in his eyes. They've dressed him in a fancy suit, but I can tell he looks thinner than usual. There's a lack of life in his smile, and in the way he waves his hands. The throwing back of his head and laughing seems false. I thought I could see through him. Clearly I couldn't.

The days pass. They go to: Twelve, Eleven, Ten, Nine, Eight, Seven, Six, Five, Three, Two, and One. Then they arrive at the Capitol, and I watch the screens of Finnick being filmed with various girls; holding hands, kissing, dancing, arms around each other, obvious scenes of them coming out of an area where they locked the door. I watch it all. I take it in.

Yurol takes a seat on the couch I haven't moved from for the past thirteen days. "Annie, turn it off."

"No." I say.

"Annie…" Yurol sighs. She looks at the screen where Finnick is shown emerging from a bathroom with his hair ruffled and the girl's clothes slightly askew. "Why are you watching this? Why are you doing this to yourself?"

I bite my lip as Finnick laughs and I see the tendons in his neck stick out. He puts his arms around the girl, pulls her closely, and kisses her on the mouth. "Because I love him Yurol. As crazy and as stupid as that sounds, I still love him despite what I know. Every part of who I am is still so terribly and deeply in love with him. And I can't just make it stop. I can't just get rid of this feeling." I begin to cry and sobs overtake my voice. "So, I have to remind myself why I am staying away from him. Every day I have to show myself proof that he was a liar because a part of me believes that everything he said to me, that everything he did for me, that he did or said it out of sincerity. And I have to convince myself that it was all a lie because the memories tell me otherwise." She puts an arm around me, and I don't pull away. "I have to convince myself."

Yurol strokes my head as I lean into her and cry, but continue to watch Finnick who is now holding hands with the girl and walking to a hotel with her.


	23. Chapter 23: 1 month later

**Chapter Twenty-Three: One Month Later**

_Annie POV_

Does the pain ever stop? Do you ever eventually feel like you're not dying? I guess my questions is: Do you ever recover?


	24. Chapter 24: 2 months later

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Two Months Later**

_Finnick POV_

The months I spent with Annie were the most pure and innocent months of my entire life. That is something I will carry with me forever. Those memories. It seems impossible I once processed such unimaginable love and happiness. But I did. And I will hold onto that.

I saw her at the homecoming festival for the Victory Tour. My heart stopped. It was so unreal to see her again. My Annie Cresta. But there she was. Standing next to Yurol. And though she looked so incredibly sad when our eyes met, she had to have felt the spark. It's not something you just recover from.

I will never stop loving her.


	25. Chapter 25: 3 months later

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Three Months Later**

_Annie POV_

I want to disappear from the world. Where it's not tainted with the presence of Finnick. It's like I can almost see the dents and places he's touched. They haunt me everywhere I look in Four. And I can't stand it.


	26. Chapter 26: 4 months later

**Chapter Twenty-Six: Four Months Later**

_Finnick POV_

Kenin and I have made several trips to the Capitol since the Victory Tour. We talk then, almost as if things are normal. But I know a part of him hates me for what I did to Annie. And of course, Kenin has every right to hate me. He warned me on several occasions. I've hated myself every day from the moment Yurol slapped me.

He doesn't talk about her. We talk about everything but her. It's one of our unspoken rules. So no matter how much I want to ask about her, I don't. And it kills me all the time.


	27. Chapter 27: 5 months later

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: Five Months Later**

_Annie POV_

Every time I begin to feel a little bit better, all I have to do is think about him and it starts all over. How are you supposed to live like this?


	28. Chapter 28: almost 6 months later

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: Almost Six Months Later (day before the reaping)**

_Finnick POV_

I don't know how I've been living like this. And tomorrow. Tomorrow will be the worst day of my life. Annie is not by my side to help me through this like she was during my game's screening. Do I even have the strength to mentor another two tributes who I will be sending to their likely deaths? Maybe I could have gotten through this with Annie's love. But that's been gone for the past six months, and honestly, I don't see the point in this life.

It's impossible to return to living when you lose a love like ours.


	29. Chapter 29: 70th hunger games reaping

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: 70th Hunger Games' Reaping Day**

_Annie POV_

This will be Yurol and I's last year to have our names drawn for a reaping. After this, we'll only have to worry about Joa. But I feel confident none of us will get reaped. It's just a feeling. I mean, how many more times can someone within the Denfeze family get reaped? The odds of that have to be in someone else's favor by now.

Yurol brushes my hair back, and slowly ties a green ribbon in weaving it between layers of my thick brown hair. My favorite color is green. It wasn't always. But I love the way the ocean looks when it shimmers green. And there's also the reason I hate myself for. I'm still so weak after half a year. I'm still crippled by the absence of what I mistook for Finnick's love. I still wear the bracelet he made for me.

"You look beautiful Annie." Yurol softly says.

I look in the mirror and see my sad face. The dull look in my eyes, and flat expression. But I do look nice. "Thank you." I turn around to face her. Yurol is wearing a conservative white dress with laces. Her hair is drawn to one shoulder, and lies softly in front over her collarbone. "You do too."

She smiles and looks me over again. I'm wearing a light green dress that flows at the bottom above my knees. "This is our last year. We'll be fine."

"I know." I tell her.

"And Joa will be fine, and so will Cameron. We'll all be fine." Yurol says to comfort herself. She holds her left arm in her right. "All of us are going to make it out of this alive."

"We will." I try to assure her.

Someone knocks on the door, and we turn to see Kenin in a suit. He looks much older. All these trips to the Capitol seemed to have aged him. "I need to head out. Mentors are required to be there an hour before the drawing."

I quietly ask. "You're a mentor? Does that mean…?" I can't speak his name aloud. It's been too long.

Kenin shakes his head. "No. Mags asked to take a break. No one else wanted to volunteer, so I did. Normally they require male and female, but the Capitol seems to be okay with us two being the mentors this year."

"We'll see you after the game then." Yurol says. "Can we say goodbye to you before you board the train? I don't know the protocol and stuff."

"I think so." Kenin replies. "It's only the tributes who have the main restrictions." He steps back. "I'll see you then, before I board."

"Bye, I love you." Yurol calls out.

"I love you too." I call out to him.

"I love you both." Kenin calls from down the stairs. "Love you too Joa."

Joa opens his door. "Love you Kenin." Joa walks into our bedroom. "It felt like we were saying goodbye to him. Like last year."

Yurol confidently, but a bit shakily replies. "But we're not. It's different than last year. We know he's coming back to us alive."

In the past six months, their relationship has greatly improved to the point of full recovery. Since Finnick and I ended, Kenin moved back in here. The one good thing that came from our end is that it allowed the Denfezes to truly heal because I think Kenin wouldn't have moved back otherwise. I'm grateful that things have gotten better for them. They all worry about me, but I've been slowly coming back. Saying more. Not staying in one place for too long as much. It's something, but it takes an incredible amount of energy to do even just that. Most of the time all I want to do is collapse and lay there.

Joa is looking at me while Yurol fixes some miniscule error in her outfit, so I give him my attention. "You look rather striking. You're so old now."

"Not as old as you." Joa playfully jokes. "You're eighteen. That makes you an old smelly fish."

We begin to laugh, and it's nice to feel this is a real laugh. Yurol snickers and rolls her eyes. "C'mon, we need to meet up with Cameron."

I can hear the worry in her voice. But I know he'll be fine, we're all going to be fine.

* * *

We're in the town center, several minutes away from the reaping. I'm holding Joa's hand, and standing next to Yurol who is burying her face into Cameron's chest. "This is our last year. We'll meet at the sweet shop—"

Her voice breaks, and she suppresses a sob. Cameron puts a hand in her hair, and murmurs. "Shh, hold it together for now. The tears can come later. All of us will meet at the sweet shop after the reaping is finished. _All of us_." He kisses the top of her head. "I love you."

Yurol softly says into his chest. "I love you too."

"Get in your groups now!" A peacekeepers yells at people like us who are standing around. "Last warning."

Cameron and Yurol kiss holding onto each other how two people in real love do. When they part, Cameron begins walking away, and calls out. "We'll be fine, I promise."

Yurol turns to Joa with tears in her eyes, and she kisses his forehead. He knows better than to protest. She wipes the backside of her hand across her nose. "The sweet shop, after. Okay?"

"Of course." Joa nods with a false cheerfulness to his voice. "I love you Yurol."

"I love you Joa." Yurol breathes and hugs him tightly.

They let go, and Joa hugs me. "I love you Annie."

I wrap my arms around him. "I love you too Joa. You're going to be fine."

We rush to our age sections because peacekeepers begin to approach the people who still haven't moved. As we find a spot among our age group, I keep my head down, unable to look up because I know he'll be there. And I don't want to see him. Yurol takes my hand for both of our comfort, and that gives me strength. I look up.

Somehow, after all this time, I'm still not ready to see his face, his eyes, his everything. Finnick Odair is looking directly at me, holding his eyes to mine. There's an intensity I felt in the privacy of his bed and all our other moments when I thought we were in love or when he cared about me. I see the sadness and desire and guilt and joy and all those emotions that so easily toyed with my mind. He never looks away, and I can't bring myself to either.

It's like we never spent all this time apart. As if all the time I spent trying to heal has become undone by this one moment. And it's too much to bear. I want to die. To directly partake in ending my life feels wrong. It's not that I don't understand or don't agree with it because I do. The former is something I cannot explain however. But swimming into the ocean until my arms grew too tired wouldn't have felt wrong. The ocean would have taken me. As it took my mother. Following in her footsteps it would appear. But now that I fear drowning, my last option aside from natural causes is no longer a decision I will make. No matter how much I want to die, I can't. _Finnick Odair, you have ruined me._

We hold eye contact until it's broken by Revana, Four's escort, strutting across the stage in a ghastly dress that reflects a shimmering orange. As if in a daze, I breathe in deeply and feel the rush of air which my lungs were deprived of. I feel released, and I want to be free.

"Look at all your faces," Revana coos in her hideous Capitol accent, "on this oh so very _special_ day. As is customary, let us begin with this inspirational video."

For the entire length of the same video screened every year, Finnick and I are drawn back to each other. These are all lies though, none of it's real. After all this time, he's still trying to toy with me. This is never going to end. I'll never be able to escape the hold he has on me.

The video ends, and Revana resumes speaking too loudly into the microphone. "And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor." She says letting the words hang. Then, "Now the moment we've all been waiting for." She breathes in deeply. "Ladies _first_." Revana struts across the stage, and I see Finnick lean forward in his chair as if he can somehow see whose name will be drawn. He tenses at Revana's hand thrusts into the bowl and shifts around the thousands of little paper envelopes. As if she's caught a prey, Revana rips her hands out, and walks back over the microphone.

The sound of paper crinkling can be heard as Revana opens the envelope she's chosen. And in a long voice, she calls. "Marilen Tawn!"

Finnick sits back in his chair, unable to hide his relief, and he looks at me. But I turn my head to see who has been chosen as Yurol squeezes my hand because we've both made it through our final reaping. We made it. We are now safe for the rest of our lives from being reaped. I'm just not free from Finnick. I crane my head to see the tiny girl walk up the side stairs that lead up to the platform where Revana is standing.

Marilen is probably fifteen, but she looks so malnourished that she actually looks like she's twelve. Really skinny with tattered clothes. I instantly know she won't last five seconds in the arena. Her legs are shaking, and she looks absolutely terrified. Both her eyes are wide in fright. Everyone will be watching this screening, and she'll be one of the first, if not the first to go. Marilen bites her trembling lip.

Revana looks at her a bit disapprovingly—never a good sign especially since this will be a public screening for all of Panem—and asks as is routine. "So, do we have any volunteer for Miss Marilen Tawn."

At first there's silence, then a loud, strong voice calls out. "I volunteer!"

The voice is so close to me, and I look at Yurol afraid that she's volunteered because she knows this girl has no chance. Yurol is looking at me in shock, as if she can't believe she just volunteered. Can I allow this to happen? Why would Yurol be volunteering?

Revana calls out. "Who said that? Does someone volunteer?"

The voice calls again, but it's not Yurol because her mouth doesn't move. "I volunteer!"

All the heads in front of us turn back, and I look behind me to see who's volunteered. But no one behind me is looking back, they're all looking forward. And that's when I realize, it wasn't Yurol speaking, it wasn't someone near or behind me, it was me. Because my mind and mouth realized something before my conscious did. I cannot kill myself through direct means, and I can't walk into the ocean because I fear drowning. So the only option left for me to die is by natural causes. Or, as I only put together now, the 70th Hunger Games.

I pull my hand out of Yurol's who was gripping it for her life, and I step out of the crowd. I hold my head high, and call again in a voice I do not recognize. "I volunteer as Four's girl tribute!"

Silence. Utter silence. Then, it settles in.

Yurol sobs.

Marilen gives a cry of relief.

Joa makes a choking sound.

Kenin's look of shock.

Finnick's slightly open mouth of sheer terror.

Panem's eyes on me.

I confidently walk to the stage without shaking, and go up the stairs. I put a hand on Marilen's shoulder and whisper. "Get out of here now."

"Thank you." She whispers back and wipes away tears of gratitude.

Revana holds her hand out, but I don't take it. People can make what they want out of that. She seems a bit perturbed and snippily asks. "And what might your name be?"

I look into the crowd to see the look of horror on the two people, who I love, faces. Then I look to the edge of the sectioned groups where the adults stand, and I see Binsen and Lance. I haven't seen them since I stopped going into work, but their faces are painful to see. And finally I look to the side because I'm causing Kenin great pain. His face is contorted in grief, telling me, I don't know what I'm getting myself into. Inadvertently, by looking at Kenin, I see Finnick's face. And he looks like he wants to die.

"What's your name dear?" Revana asks again with a tone.

And then I look at nobody. I look to the sky. "Annie Cresta."

"Well," Revana awkwardly begins, "District Four, I give you Annie Cresta, the girl volunteer for the 70th Hunger Games!" Most people applaud out of relief and the expectancy we should applaud, and Revana disdainfully lifts her nose back to the microphone. "Now that we have our girl tribute, let us begin with the gentlemen!" She walks to the boy's bowl, and grabs an envelope after much ruffling around.

Revana opens the envelope, and reads the name. "Cameron Sanders."

This time, Yurol is unable to suppress her cry, and it becomes a full on sob. I'm in shock as well. I wasn't expecting her to lose me, but now to lose Cameron, it seems so wrong. I watch him approach the stage with a confident expression, but I see the pain in his eyes. We both hear Yurol's sobs in the background. He walks up the stage, and we hold each other's eye contact. Two people who Yurol loves will be sent to an arena with twenty-two other tributes, and even if we're the last two survivors, only one of us will be coming back to her.

"Are there any volunteers?" Revana doubtfully asks. Cameron not only looks strong, but it's easy to tell this was his last reaping. No one will sacrifice their life for someone who should be able to take care of themselves in the arena. "No one?" Revana questions. "Alright, then—"

"I volunteer!" a familiar voice suddenly calls from the crowd. I know whose voice it is, but I have to see it. Is he really doing this? "I volunteer as Four's boy tribute!"

They step out from the crowd and make their way up the stage as Cameron gratefully walks by. Revana loudly asks. "And what is your name young gentlemen?"

He looks me straight in the eyes and I know why he's doing this. And I think about how he's throwing his life away because I have no intention of surviving. He holds my eyes as if to say, I would never let you do this alone. And I sadly shake my head because he has no right intervening this way. This was my decision. He knows Finnick broke me. Everyone knows this.

Annoyed that she's had to ask the two volunteer tributes for their names more than once, Revana sharply asks. "What is your name?"

I take in his lighter tan, shorter hair, and green eyes. He speaks in a very assertive tone. "Joln Hindle."

* * *

I'm sitting in a chair which is in a room of the Justice Building. These chairs are extremely comfortable, and I can't help but think what a waste it must be because they are so seldom used. Not what most people think about, I'm sure, but it's what comes to mind.

The door nearly bursts open and a furious Yurol enters the room. Her eyes are red and swollen, and she angrily grabs my shoulders. "What are you thinking Annie! This was our last year! How could you do this!" She's screaming at me, and I'm worried the peacekeepers might take her away.

Joa pulls her off since she's begun throttling me, and he forces her several steps back where she begins to just cry. He turns to me, and his eyes are red and swollen as well. There's so much pain in his face, and I think of how it's so unfair of me to put them through this for a third year in a row. I lean forward in my chair and scoot to the edge.

Joa takes my hand. "Why did you volunteer?"

"Oh Joa." I quietly say. "I don't expect any of you to understand. I just can't take it anymore."

Yurol begins to yell. "You can't take it anymore! You! Do you not remember how this nearly destroyed me last year when Kenin was reaped! Did you forget that!" She begins screaming again. "I thought we meant more than that to you! I thought we were enough so you wouldn't throw your life away!"

"You all have been more than enough." I softly reply. "But I don't want to be here anymore." My voice cracks. "I'm sorry. I love you both." Joa begins to cry, and Yurol raises a hand to her mouth. "I love you both so much."

Yurol shakes her head and stomps her foot. "You are so selfish Annie! I hate you! I hate you so much!" She has countless tears pouring down her face, and she comes over and wraps me in a hug. "I hate you so much." She whispers. I wrap my arms around her, and she fiercely tells me. "You _better_ win. You don't get to give up. Not on us. You have to _try_."

Yurol moves to the side a bit, so Joa can join our hug. He cries into my shoulder. "Please try Annie, please. I can't lose you too. Do everything you can."

A peacekeeper abruptly opens the door. "Time's up."

Try, try, try, are Yurol and Joa's pleas as they're pulled out of the room. The tormented cries seem to echo around the room, and I wonder how many desperate pleas to win the game have been made in this room alone.

* * *

_Finnick POV_

What was she _thinking_? After this, she could have lived her life without worry of death. No more reapings, and Joa wouldn't have been reaped. Annie could have continued her life with her entire family. How could she do this?

_Slap._

Even though it's six months later, I've never forgotten the feel of Yurol's slap. "This is all your fault Odair!" She screams at me through tears.

Peacekeepers have rushed over to us, and grabbed her arms, but I fiercely tell them. "Take your hands off of her. Now! This is a private matter."

They're not happy a district slave is giving them orders, but they know I have enough sway because of my position. They nod and release Yurol and she resumes her screaming. "This is all your fault! You broke her! Do you have any idea what you've done to her!" I don't say anything. "She still loves you after what you did to her! You messed her up inside the head!" Yurol takes several breaths to steady herself. Her voice is lower, but still firm. "Annie was getting better before she met you. Her mind was broken after her family's death. She had the fragility of a fish egg. That's how much her mind was broken. And before she met you, it was getting better. When she was with you, it was like a concrete wall. But you took that all away because you find it amusing to string girls along no matter the consequences." Yurol shakes her head. "Well Finnick, congratulations. You broke Annie's heart so much she rather die in an arena where people die terrible deaths, rather than stay here in Four with her family all because it reminds her of you." Yurol sadly begins to walk away, drained of all her energy. "This is on you Finnick. If you had any soul at all, you're going to do everything within your power to make this right."

My power…Yurol's right. Maybe I can use my influence and knowledge to get Annie out of this. The only love of my life. Joa walks up to me, and quietly says. "Annie still meant what she said in her letter," I understand this code, "but make it right Finnick. Please."

Joa exits the door that Yurol exited, and the exact same door they exited last year when Kenin was here. A door down the hall opens and two crying parents' screams fill the hallways as they beg for a little bit more time with their son. Annie's ex. Who volunteered because he's still in love with her. And Annie's in love with me. But she doesn't believe that I am in love with her. Even though I am in love with her and have been from the moment I truly knew when she talked about me hearing Emilia's voice.

I feel bad for Joln because the two mentors from Four—our number one priority is keeping Annie Cresta alive. No exceptions. There cannot be any other victor. No matter the costs.

* * *

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

..

.

.

hope you enjoyed it! i hope no one saw annie's reaping happening that way


	30. Chapter 30: Promise

**enjoy =] i know this will kind of seem like a filler, but sometimes they're needed, i don't like skipping too much in-betweens. thanks for reading!**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty: Promise**

_Finnick POV_

I stop breathing when the peacekeepers open the door to the room Annie is being held in. She's sitting in a blue chair; head slightly tilted, eyes to the floor. Then I see her eyes lift and focus on me. An unbearable amount of sadness is displayed on her face, and I swear I feel her heart break. I see the effect I have on her, but does she see the effect she has on me?

"You will be escorted to the train by your mentor Finnick Odair." A peacekeeper tells Annie.

She nods and rises from the chair. And the image of Annie walking towards me fills me with as much dread as it does happiness. For a moment, I can believe she's returning to me. It's been too long since I've seen her. And I want to believe this is all a bad dream. The past six months have been nothing but a nightmare because if those six months didn't happen, we're not actually here.

Annie stops in front of me and stares to the side looking at the wall. I don't know what to do or what to say, so I softly clear my throat. I can't think when Annie finally turns her head up and holds eye contact. My entire world is before me, and she is so incredibly beautiful. I'm so consumed in seeing Annie this closely for what feels like it's been a lifetime, that I almost forget why she is here.

And that's when the self-hating guilt plows through me ripping out my insides. If I hadn't been so selfish, she wouldn't have felt the need to try and kill herself the way I tried. No! Annie cannot go to the Hunger Games. The panic is overwhelming, and my eyes beg her, _Why? How could you volunteer?_

Annie bites her lip, and she stares at me with broken eyes. _ How can you of all people ask me why? You destroyed my life Finnick. I can't do it anymore._

I open my mouth to say something, to say anything—now that she's a tribute, I can finally tell her the truth. That yes! _Yes_ I do love her, and the only reason I'm seen with other women in the Capitol is because I prostitute myself. So it's not that I want to sleep around, but it's because I can help other tributes by doing this, and I'm trying to protect her life. I am still only in love with her, and no one else.

But before I can open my mouth, it's like I watch her disappear before my eyes. Annie's gaze drifts back down, and she stares to her other side now. It looks like she's staring at the chairs in this hallway. When she volunteered, I didn't recognize her. Then she seemed so sure and strong. But now it seems like Annie's exited this world before the games have begun—ensuring a definite death.

"Annie." I finally force myself to say. I detect a small flinch from her when I say her name. I lower my voice and fiercely whisper. "You have to fight. I can't let you die. I won't let you. I need you." This must get her attention because she turns to me. With every fiber of my being, I hope she hears me and listens. "I love you, and I have so much to explain, but you need to know that I love you. I have never stopped loving you. I have never been in love with anyone but you. And I need you to not give up." The tears are rising in my eyes, but I keep my voice steady. "Not just for me, but for your family. For Yurol, Joa, Kenin. For Joln. Binsen, Lance. There are so many people who love you and they have so much to lose if they lose you. So _please_, I am begging you, don't give up. You need to win." I plead.

Annie's focused her eyes on me and I know she's heard every word. She hasn't looked away this entire time, and I really believe that what I said has gotten through to her. But she doesn't say anything. And the same sadness replaces the blank expression on her face, and I know I've lost her all over again.

* * *

_Annie POV_

I hear him. And his words. Saying all the right things a girl would want to hear. But I believe he's saying it out of the guilt that he played one girl too many and finally broke the one who was already broken. Finnick is trying to relieve his guilt of pushing me too far. That's all. Nothing more. So what can I say to that?

Every time I look at him, my whole body just aches and I wonder how my body doesn't shatter into the tiny little pieces it feels like it's made of. It's a shock to me that I haven't collapsed with a broken body because every part of it feels utterly destroyed. How can you be in this much pain and still be alive?

"Annie, please, listen to me." Finnick pleads again and I feel the words tear through my mind. "I know it's hard to believe, but I love you. I can't live without you. You need to win. I can't lose you."

He's about to say something else, but Revana turns the corner and passionately kisses Finnick in front of me. It's like that one night all over. When I saw him kissing another girl for the first time. And though I've seen it countless times on the screens since, to see it in person destroys my will to live even further. I was getting better from him. Like a chronic disease that had spread to every inch of my body. But all that recovery time means nothing as I watch Finnick and Revana kiss.

"Can we get going?" Joln angrily asks from behind. I don't know if he's annoyed with the two of them, or saying that for my benefit. I look behind me, and meet Joln's eyes. I see the deep sadness in them because he knows I volunteered since Finnick broke my heart.

Revana claps her hands together a bit irritated. "Well, it seems like we all know each other here then. Although, I'm sure you both don't know Finnick. He will be your mentor, and so will Kenin who won last year's Hunger Games. Come, come. Let's board the train so we may be on our way and out of this place."

She's begun walking away, and Finnick is turned towards me. He pulls his lips inwards, and raises the side of his hand to his mouth. There's no denying what I just saw, and he knows that. Finnick quietly tells us. "Let's go."

I stare at him, and don't say anything. Revana's turned around and impatiently calls. "We can't dally here, we have a schedule."

Joln is at my side, and he says to me. "C'mon."

I breathe out and walk with Joln to follow Revana.

* * *

Despite the overwhelming sadness and heartache, it lessens with the shock of seeing the train's extravagance. Soft, plush carpet. Impeccably shiny metal dishware. Hundreds of exquisite foods laid out on beautifully carved wooden tables. This is the luxury Finnick and Kenin get with each Capitol visit? It's no wonder I wasn't enough for him.

I do believe Finnick loves me. I can hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes. He loves me as best as he knows how. And I'm sure that's very different for him. But it's not the form of love you want from the person you're in love with. Because in the end, you're never good enough for them. You're just the favorite. I'm just the favorite.

As Revana chatters on about the different features of the train and how she's sure none of us have ever seen such beauty, I filter in and out of the moments. I'm there as she talks about how we'll have an entire day to enjoy this, and then I'm back at Kenin's house trying so hard to see what Yurol and Joa are doing. I picture Yurol crying in Cameron's arms. He's holding her in her bed as she weeps out of happiness that Joln took his place and now they're both safe from reapings, and she's crying out of anger that I volunteered to end my life. And she hates me so much for abandoning her and for being so selfish because how could I do this to them? She hates me because she loves me. I imagine Joa crying at the table trying to put together the ship where all the pieces I broke are lying next to him. A piece _snaps_ in his hands and he begins to sob at the table. All alone because Yurol is with Cameron, Kenin is standing next to Finnick, and I'm going to my death.

My mind goes to the Shack where I see the doors closed despite it not being our break hours. Binsen is locked inside, sitting at a table by himself, drinking a bottle of spirits, hands distraughtly pressed to his face. Today he'll keep the Shack closed because he needs time to process how did the girl who he considered his daughter decide to so suddenly end her life? But tomorrow he'll have to open again since he needs to continue living.

And Lance. Sitting at home with his wife, her hand gently placed on his knee. He sits there unable to believe my abrupt departure. He thinks, maybe if he had tried to talk with me more than just casual conversation that it could have possibly showed me I had so many loved ones. I want to call out to him that there was nothing nobody could have said because I didn't even know how fractured every bit of me was. I'm still Annie, but too much has been broken for me to carry on.

But I'm not there. I'm not in Kenin's house, I'm not at the Shack, I'm not in Lance's living room. These are all figments of my imagination because I chose to volunteer and be away from the people I love. Have I made them think they weren't enough? It's selfish of me. Because they've been more than enough. Living with this pain though, it's no life at all. I would slowly but surely suck the life from them as they would have watched me deteriorate and fade from this world. I'd faded so much in these past six months, and I could see the strain it put on everyone. How much effort they put into trying to save me. This is the best thing for everyone.

Except Joln. I turn my head to him as he scowls at Revana. This was not his right to interfere. He can't throw his life away for me. Why die for someone who has no desire to live? It's not fair for him. How can I accept this sort of sacrifice from the boy who loves me but who I do not return the feelings for?

"So, are there any questions?" Revana asks.

Joln glances at me since I've been staring him, and he turns back to our escort. "No."

Silence. Waiting. I turn my head to her. The orange of her dress looks repugnant and ghastly against her bleached white skin. Frizzy light pink hair surround her head like a solid cloud stuck in place. Revana looks ridiculous, yet Finnick did nothing to stop their kiss. These are the other women he sees. The women he's been with while we were together. Every woman I see in the Capitol has probably been with him. I'll be surrounded by his adoring trail of lovers and I'll be just like them. Weak and pathetic.

"Annie?" Finnick quietly asks.

I can't talk to him. I haven't talked to him since the last time we were at the train. When I was saying goodbye to him so he could see his other lovers. We were lovers. I thought we were. What was I to him? I can't say. Were we saying our goodbyes as he stepped into this cart? Is this the last place I heard him tell me he loved me when I believed what we had was pure? There are too many impossible questions that he can never answer. So, I don't want us to speak.

Instead, I walk past everyone and go into the next cart. I don't know if I'm allowed to be here, but no one stops me. The next cart is just as extravagant, and I take a seat near the wide glass windows. I see a world that only those going to their deaths get to see. Endless land stretches out until it looks like the sky meets earth, and it looks like the ocean's horizon, only replaced with ground. Some parts are green, some parts are yellow. Life and death lying side by side. Huge clouds fill the sky and I wonder what it's like to lie in the field we're passing and stare up at the white and blue canvas above. Is that the freest a person can get?

Loud shouting suddenly comes from the cart I just exited, and I turn my head. Accusatory tones mumble through the walls and I can feel the anger reaching out its fingers. This is your fault, stay out of it, you've killed her, shut your mouth, you should have died, both of you stop it, you're not a part of this, you're going to tell me that, let me talk to her, I need to talk to her, you ruined her life, there's a lot you don't understand, the three of you are being absolutely obnoxious, I love her, you ruined her, I won't let you hurt her again, you have no idea what happened between us, you tossed her to the side and broke her heart, stop it now, this is not appropriate, get out of my way, make me, stop it, move now, take a punch because you didn't get a good one in last time.

_Crash._

The three of them were so busy yelling and getting in each other's faces none of them noticed my entrance. Thousands of crystals shards are scattered across the carpet and there's a scratch in the wall which I threw the empty crystal bowl at. Finnick has a vein pulsing in his neck, Joln's hands are clenched into fists, Kenin is between them. Revana is standing to the side, hand across her chest, back to the window. All eyes are on me. Now that it's quiet, I go into the cart on the opposite side and thankfully find a bedroom.

I crawl under the sheets and lay there. My heart aches in drowning sadness and I don't want to be alive. I just want this to end! I begin to cry feeling my soul emptying itself from my body. Everything hurts so much and I don't know how to breathe without my chest aching with that omnipresent pain. I miss Finnick so much and I just want him here with me. What does that make me knowing what I know about him though? I love him and he was never faithful during our entire relationship. How can I still love that boy so deeply? The sobs get deeper, and I cry for all that I have lost. Finnick. My ability to live. The Denfezes. Life's purpose.

I'm crying so hard that I only realize someone's entered my room when they take a seat on my bed. Through my tears I see Finnick on the edge. He's turned halfway and there's nothing but sorrow on his face. "Annie, I need to explain myself."

* * *

_Finnick POV_

Seeing Annie sobbing in her bed makes my chest hurt so much I wonder if it's possible for there to be some physical damage upon examination. This is the first time I've seen the raw destruction I've unleashed upon her life, and I'm well aware there must have been many moments like this in the time I haven't seen her. The pain I have caused Annie can never be undone, and I will never forgive myself for that. But maybe now I can make it better.

It took awhile for Kenin and I to get Joln to calm down, but when he did, we told him of our situation—Revana left prior to this clearly too unsettled by all the testosterone. He knows Kenin wouldn't lie about this to support me, so after a long discussion, he agreed I should be the one to talk with Annie.

I don't reach out to her because I will let the choice be hers. And I slowly begin. "You don't believe I love you, but Annie, you're my everything. I love you so much. And I wish things were different because then you wouldn't be in so much pain, but I can't change my situation no matter how much I love you." I run a hand through my hair. "The only reason I sleep with other women in the Capitol is because after I became victor," I can't believe I'm going to reveal this secret to the love of my life, "I began to prostitute at Snow's request." There's a few sobs, but then Annie falls silent. "I didn't have to, he had no one to threaten me with if I refused, but I came to an agreement with him that if I sold myself, then Four's tributes would get certain advantages in their games to increase their chance of survival. We agreed: no one under the age of fifteen would be reaped, the gamemakers could not activate any part of the arena which resulted in a Four's tribute's death, and I would be allowed to send them one note every day that had information about the arena which could be lifesaving. This is a deal I made when I turned sixteen. And, sleeping with their people gets the tributes sponsors as well. You know how important sponsors are for a tribute's survival."

I sigh heavily because I think of all the women and men I've had sex with while I was with Annie. It's tore at me every time. "And then I couldn't say no when I was with you because Snow could use you as leverage against me. If I said no, something bad would have happened to you. You would have been reaped or killed in a fake accident, I couldn't have that happen. And I couldn't for Kenin's sake as well. As long as victors do what the Capitol wants, their loved ones are safe. If you don't, then bad things happen."

I hear sheets moving, and I look at Annie again who slides herself up so she can sit in the bed. It's the first acknowledgment I've received that she's heard me. Her eyes are swollen and red, her nose is red and runny, her hair tangled, and I love her. For the first time in half a year, she speaks to me. "Why didn't you tell me this before? You had all this time." The doubt in her voice gnaws at me.

"Non-victors aren't allowed to know about this. As tributes," my voice breaks, and I put my head in my hands, "you'll either die or become a victor. So you can know now without serious repercussions."

Annie's hands are on my shoulder, and I expect her to give it a squeeze or say something, but I don't expect what she does. She lifts my head out of my hands, turns my face towards her, and kisses me. It's a feel that I truly thought I'd lost forever. Annie leans forward, and pushes me back onto her bed as we make up for lost time. Her soft lips against mine give me meaning again, and I place my hands on the sides of her throat, my thumbs on her cheek. Several of her tears splash my face, but I don't let go. I'll only come up to breathe when she does.

When we do come up to breathe, Annie wipes my face with her thumbs, and she quietly says. "I'm so sorry Finnick. If I had known—"

"You couldn't have known." I firmly tell her. "There was no way." Annie begins to cry, and I roll us over so she's on the bed now, and I'm lying next to her. "Listen to me, you have nothing to be sorry about."

She buries her face in my chest. "But now we're in the mess because of me. I'm a tribute, and Joln." She exclaims, "Oh, what have I done?"

I kiss the top of her head. "You couldn't have known."

"I'm going to die Finnick." Annie weeps and I feel my heart squeeze in terror. "Everything is all wrong!"

"You're not going to die Annie, I won't let you." I try to assure her. "I am going to do everything I can to keep you alive, do you hear me?"

Annie shakes her head. "Joln volunteered because I volunteered. You have to help him too."

"Annie…" I softly say.

She lifts her head and looks into my eyes. "No, Finnick. You and Kenin are going to try to keep Joln alive just as much as you both will try to keep me alive. I won't forgive you guys if you don't. That is something I could never forgive you for." Annie firmly says. "Promise me Finnick. You can't toss Joln aside. Promise me."

Her thumb strokes my jaw and I think of how unfair this ultimatum is. A tear falls from my left eye and I hate myself for whispering—"I promise"—because I mean it. I love Annie, and I mean everything I say to her, and I mean to keep every promise I make. So I hate myself because if I was a better person I would rather live with her despising me for breaking that promise if it meant her survival was guaranteed. But I can't.

I lift my hand to Annie's chin. "I'm going to do everything I can for you. And Joln. Promise me you'll do everything you can to win."

Annie nods, but adds. "Aside from killing Joln."

"What if you two are the last tributes?" I ask.

"Then I'll let him win."

I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. "No, Annie."

She kisses my cheek. "Yes, Finnick. Joln volunteered for me. That is what I will promise. It's not fair for Joln that he's in this now."

"This isn't fair for us." I softly cry.

Annie presses her forehead to mine. "It's less fair for Joln. Willing to sacrifice his life because he loves me while I love you—that's not right Finnick, and you know it."

I begin to cry; the thought of losing Annie is too much. I'd barely been keeping it together from the moment she volunteered, but in this privacy I can finally weep out of fear. Annie's soothing hands comfort me, and I let her kiss my tears and wipe them away. She strokes my hair as I bury my face in her shoulder. I can feel the silent sobs in her body, and we fall asleep crying together.

* * *

_Annie POV_

I awake in a brief confusion. My eyes are tender and stiff. I'm not in Yurol's room. Finnick's limbs are completely surrounding me and I'm protected in his barrier again. Despite what it meant for us to be back together, I feel the happiness I've missed for so long. He's breathing softly into my neck, and I slightly roll over. This jostles Finnick awake, and I can see the panic in his eyes. They're hypervigilent and distorted. Then, he comes back to me.

I'm sure there's sadness in both our eyes, but he gives me a smile and kisses my forehead. "Hey."

"Hi." I whisper.

Finnick untangles his arm from beneath me, and pushes the hair out of my face. "I love you."

I put a hand to his face and lightly kiss him. "I love you too."

He strokes my face as if taking me in, then something flashes in his eyes. Finnick quickly sits up, and looks out the window. "Damnit, what time is it?"

"What's wrong?" I ask worried.

He bites his lip, and I can see his self-loathing. "Revana. Her dad is one of the gamemakers…"

I get his meaning. "Oh."

Finnick throws the sheets off, and turns back to face me. He leans forward since I'm sitting up now, and gently holds my face in his hands. "Annie, I love you. She means nothing to me."

"I know." I nod. But my voice is still sad. I slide off the bed.

Finnick looks back at me since he's standing in the doorway. "Where are you going?"

I stand next to him. "To get something to eat. I think it's morning."

He doesn't want me coming out too because I know where he'll be going, but there's not much he can say. After a small sigh, Finnick forces a smile. "Let me clean your face a bit."

I close my eyes as Finnick wipes whatever I have on my face off. When he removes his hand, I do the same for him since his eyes are crusty from crying. Finnick leans down to kiss me one more time, before we both walk into the next cart. Kenin and Joln are at the table eating, and Finnick rushes over to the table with me. "Where's Revana?"

Kenin dismissively waves his hand while biting into some kind of bread with white toppings. "Don't worry, you're fine. I found her drinking a bottle of spirits, and I joined her. She was upset from the fighting, we talked, and I replaced you."

"Kenin…" Finnick says. He looks up at Finnick, and I realize how messed up everything is. "Thank you."

Kenin smiles and shrugs. "I'm glad you know now Annie, aside from being a tribute. I hated seeing you guys apart." Then he looks at Joln, and chokes on some of his bread. "This must be awkward for you." Joln gives him a look, and Kenin leans back. "What?"

Joln shakes his head, and looks at me. "So I owe you an apology. Finnick really does love you. He's not the guy on the screens."

I stand here unable to believe what Joln is saying. There's no anger, no bitterness, only a hint of sadness. And that's in everyone. I take a seat across Joln, and Finnick takes a seat next to me. I tell Joln. "Thank you." He shrugs dismissively like Kenin. "I'm sorry about everything."

Kenin and Finnick pretend to busy themselves with eating the assortment of food while Joln lowers his fork. "Things happen. I just wanted to protect you."

Beneath the table, Finnick's right hand tightens around my left, but he doesn't say anything. It makes me uncomfortable that Joln is speaking so openly with Kenin and Finnick present, and even if they weren't I don't know how I would feel about him saying this. His actions say it all, and it still doesn't feel right. I've always cared about him, but Finnick is the one I love. And with everything Finnick and I have been through, if I still love him, I know there's no one else for me.

I'm actually grateful to see Revana as she walks in just then. "Oh, well this is wonderful. Everyone is eating together and no one is fighting." Finnick quickly drops my hand before she can see. "It looks like you two made up. Kenin told me you guys are best friends in Four. That's why your volunteering caused so much distension in our cart yesterday. Kenin is like your brother, Finnick was mad, Joln is a family friend; it's all rather confusing but it looks like everything has been settled." She cheerfully says and I can't help but think how incredibly stupid she must be.

Kenin and Joln look at the window the same time, so Finnick and I turn around. In the distance, I see the Capitol with my own eyes for the first time. It seems so far away, but with the speed of this train, we'll be there in minutes. And when we arrive, the 70th Hunger Games will begin for all of us.

* * *

i plan to work on annie's game during my break, so i hope you enjoyed this chapter for now


	31. Chapter 31: (Triangle)

**it's the calm before the storm, next chapter will be annie's hunger games. thanks to everyone whose been reading, i hope you're enjoying the story. i will am going to try and get the games out instead of writing it and not having time and leaving you guys hanging as well as not letting me get into writing it. if that makes sense.**

**enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-One: "Triangle"**

_Annie POV_

This is the third makeup application my prep team has put on me, and they step back with worried expressions. The woman with rainbow dreadlocks and stretched earlobes, that you could fit a glass through, holds her hands up as if that'll stop what's coming. The strange man with lashes that curl all the way up to his forehead clenches his teeth together in apprehension. And the other woman closest to me, with tattooed lips of swirling patterns, puts a hand to her throat. All of them waiting. Their faces relax a bit, I try to breathe, they relax more, and when they think they're in the clear, I can't help myself.

I burst into tears again ruining their work. All of them sigh in exasperation, and the woman with tattooed lips moans with a bit of excitement. "Now may we call Finnick?"

"Fine." The guy says frustrated.

The two women exchange looks of expectancy making me cry even harder. My shoulders shake as I hang my head low because no matter what, I can't keep it together. If I had known everything I do now, maybe I wouldn't be here. It would have been hard to believe Finnick if I was back in Four because countless people, especially Yurol, would no doubt believe Finnick's reasons were nothing but lies. But maybe I would have known that he really loves me, and I would have trusted him. I'll never know though, because I'm here. And now it's too late.

And it's not too late only for me. It's too late for Joln. He volunteered for Cameron for me. There are so many entanglements of whose life has been affected, I can't differentiate between what would have been for the best. If I hadn't volunteered, Cameron would have been reaped, destroying Yurol. But I did volunteer, hurting Yurol, and causing Joln to take Cameron's place. And for as long as I live, which may not be long at all, Joln's decision and life will always be on me.

The curtain next to me slides over revealing Joln. One of his prep team members fiercely says. "Hey, you're not allowed to do that."

"Just let me talk to her for a bit." Joln brusquely says. "Or she won't stop crying." The prep team member, who I can't tell if they're male or female, gives a little 'hmph' and pushes back their sparkling green hair. Joln firmly whispers. "Annie, pull it together. The other tributes can hear you, and One and Two seem to find it amusing."

This sends me into another wave of tears. And now Joln sighs in frustration. I know he means well, and that's always made him a good person, but his temper usually gets the best of him. I'm being so weak and he volunteered for me! How can I be doing this to him? But I still can't stop the tears. The prep team member gives him a cold stare. "You only made it worse."

"Whatever." He shoots back. A bit more gently, Joln tries to tell me. "I know you're scared, I am too, but we need to appear strong. Try to hold it together, at least in public."

Several of the female and male prep team people begin to 'ooh' and 'ahh' as I'm assuming Finnick approaches. Joln's prep team pulls the curtain shut, and I wait for my boy. He walks to my section with a huge grin, as he says hello to all his admirers, but when he sees me that smile lessens as I know he's fighting grief. As the woman with dreads tells Finnick how I won't stop crying and it's ruining their design, I see a flicker of anger briefly cross his face. He quietly says something to the trio, and they walk away.

When they're gone, Finnick comes over and stands on the side of the metal table I've been on for the past four hours. He looks behind him, and then very quickly gives me a light kiss. I try to hold onto it, but he's gone so suddenly standing upright as any normal mentor would be. "Listen to me, all you need to do is hold it in for the next few hours. That's all, I promise. Just long enough for Panem to see you as a Career. And I know that's not what you want to hear, but this is going to save your life. Please Annie, you need to do this."

"I don't want to do this anymore." I quietly whisper with sobs. "This is all my fault."

"Shh." Finnick tries to comfort me, and he puts his hand on the table because he's trying to be cautious about how touchy he is with me. "Don't think about that. I love you, we'll get through this. I promise."

I put my hand on the table too, inches away from his. "That's a lot of promises Finnick."

He sadly replies. "There's a lot at stake." Finnick looks back at the trio who've returned. "Mentors aren't supposed to be here unless there's an emergency. I have to go back." Very quietly, so softly that I barely hear him. "I love you."

My prep team is watching me and I'm sure they're decent at lip reading with all the gossip they do, so I bite my lip and tell him with my eyes. Finnick heavily breathes in, allows an expression of pain to fill his face, and as he breathes out it's replaced with a good-natured grin. He faces the trio again and tells them. "I think we're in the clear. Now if you'll excuse me ladies, and sir, I'll be on my way."

They wave to him like idiots, and giggle like children.

* * *

I'm standing in the chariot next to Joln, and I'm trying to keep it together. We're in front of Five who are wearing some sort of outfit that twinkles with lights. And ahead of us is Three whose tributes are wearing a ghastly costume of ill looking technological contrapments. Joln is wearing an unbuttoned shirt that seems to be made from a net, and white pants. My stylist, Pollen, dressed me in a netted dress, covering my breasts with seashells placed beneath the net, and wrapping the dress several times to create layers to cover my lower area. The dress is wrapped around my upper body in such a way that it goes upwards from my left hip to right breast, and right hip to left breast. This leaves my stomach bare.

The doors begin to crack open, and the deafening roar from the Capitol filters in. I see One and Two instantly straighten their backs and lift their heads, while Three nervously looks around. I'm about to do the same when Joln softly tells me. "Don't look around. We're supposed to look like Careers."

I bite my tongue to prevent myself from biting my lip, and our chariot jolts forward. The roar from the crowd is incredible. At first, it's the only thing you can concentrate on. It feels as if the sounds are coming from within your head. I've never had so many eyes on me, and you just know everyone is watching your every move. My chest becomes tight and the air seems thinner. I know our chariot is moving, but I think time has slowed down. The crowd passes us so slowly and I can see each individual face. Their grotesque snarls and smiles with ghastly makeup and facial alterations. Red, blue, yellow, green, orange, purple, white, pink hair. Jewels, tattoos, feathers, whiskers, metallic objects implanted into their abnormally colored skin.

They wave and laugh and scream and shake their arms. My head feels like it's in honey as I slowly turn to look at the Capitol's City Circle. The enormity of this area is overwhelming. Tens upon thousands of people have been crammed into this location and suddenly there's not enough space in Panem. Everything is closing in. It all starts to spin. I blink my eyes because my vision starts to tunnel but the darkness doesn't disappear. Next to me, Joln is saying something but his voice sounds muffled and far away. And it's too hard to focus because I know my brain is shutting down. Nothing is functioning.

The last thing I see are the chariots pulling us along, the gasps of shock from this hideous crowd, and the balcony where President Snow and the gamemakers sit.

* * *

_Finnick POV_

I instantly stand up from my seat when I see Annie sway and fall out of the chariot. I'm running from the mentor's area, and I hear Kenin behind me. We push our way through the crowd of people who have also stood up to see what happened. I shove people out of my way. "Move!"

Kenin and I jump over the wall and drop to the ground twelve feet below. The chariots are still pulling the tributes, but those who were behind Annie and Joln are looking back at her lifeless body. Several medics are running towards her as Kenin and I dodge between the chariots to get to Annie. I fall at her side, and press my ear to her chest. She's breathing and her heartbeat is strong. She'll be fine. I don't want anyone else touching her, so I pick Annie up and position her over my shoulder. There's a door in the wall ahead of us for employees' easy access, and as I'm carrying Annie through the door, I see Joln looking back at us too.

Then, Kenin and I are in a hallway. Within seconds the medics enter the same door, and one of them tries to take Annie from me. "We'll take her from here."

"No." I firmly say. "She's my tribute."

A peacekeeper enters as other medics roll in a movable stretcher. "Mr. Odair, you will listen to the medics. The tribute's original physical condition cannot be compromised prior to the game."

"I'm coming with her." I tell him.

As I gently lay Annie on the stretcher, the peacekeeper shakes his head. "You're not allowed to. After the Opening Ceremonies have finished, you may visit her if she is not awake. Until then, you are expected to meet with your other tribute after President Snow's speech."

I'm about to protest when Kenin grabs my arm. "Let's go."

I turn to him because how can he stand here and listen? But then I see his expression. The same fear and concern I have are right there. I'm not the only one who Annie is important to. However, I am being blinded by my feelings for her. Despite who I may be to many of the Capitol's people, I still need to abide by the rules here. After several deep breaths, I nod and watch as Annie is wheeled away.

"She'll be in the Training Center's medical room?" I ask the peacekeeper.

He nods and begins walking away to follow the medics. "Yes."

This is the moment I know. That Annie won't survive without some extra help. It'll take every resource I have to make this happen. I'll have to cross boundaries where there's no coming back from. Decisions will have to be made that I know I will never forgive myself for. But it has to be done. There's no other way for my Annie to come out of this alive unless I make these choices for her.

Kenin nods his head in the direction where the medics and peacekeeper have left, and I follow his lead. Snow has just begun his speech, and this gives Kenin and I enough time to make it to the Training Center on foot. Normally we would leave the mentoring section and catch a ride on a mini cart to meet our tributes, but there's no cart waiting for us here.

As we walk, Kenin softly whispers. "I don't know what to do for her."

I rub a hand over my eyes. "She has to fight too. I know she's trying, but she needs to be stronger than this. At least long enough to get away from the Cornucopia. But even that, it won't be enough."

Kenin breathes in deeply as I speak the truth. He lets out a tormented sigh. "Is there anything you can do? There has to be something you can do." He grabs my arm again and forces me to stop walking. "You need to do everything you can Finnick, no matter the costs. I can't because I have my family, but you, you don't—" Kenin looks away ashamed he's about to say this, but he does. "You don't have anything aside from her. Mags yes, but the Capitol won't use her against you. They can't use another victor. And Annie is here because of you."

"I am well aware of that Kenin." I roughly reply.

"Then do something Finnick. Anything. No matter what it takes. Do _something_." He fiercely begs. "Because Annie will die out there if we don't give her every advantage she can get. And that'll be on you."

I know Kenin hates himself for saying that, but I also know he means it. If Annie dies, I will be held accountable because as he said, he's warned me several times to discontinue our relationship before things went too far. I don't look away from Kenin because he needs to understand that, "I know."

There's great remorse in his eyes, and we begin walking towards the Training Center. By the time we reach there, the doors are opening and the chariots are pulling in. One and Two have enormous smirks on their faces, and everyone casts glances our way. They're wondering what happened to Annie Cresta, the girl from Four, the one I love. Four's chariot pulls up to its designated spot, and Joln jumps down.

He comes to Kenin and I. "How is she?"

"Unconscious." Kenin replies. "But okay, I think. They took her away."

"You didn't stay with her?" Joln accusingly asks.

He's not talking to Kenin, he's looking directly at me. I feel my temper snap. "It's not that simple. I can't do whatever I want."

Joln takes a step closer. "Well that's never stopped you before. How could you leave her so easily?"

"Don't speak to me as if you know me." My voice raises. "I didn't have a choice in staying with her. I would never abandon her. I love her."

"I love her too." Joln counters. He's standing only inches away. "I followed her all the way here. What have you done, huh? You're the reason she's here! You're the reason we're both here!"

And it's so stupid, it's incredibly stupid, but I can't control my temper. I shove Joln back, and yell. "And that is something I will have to live with every day!"

Joln looks at me in disbelief, and charges. He tackles me into the side of Five's chariot, and my back painfully slams into the wheels. As the air is forced out of my lungs, I swing my arm and get him in the jaw. Joln lands a punch to my left eye, and pain explodes in my head shooting across my skull. That eye involuntarily squeezes shut, half-blinding me. We're about to run into each other again, when several arms intervene and hold us apart.

Kenin and Gloss are holding Joln back, while Heria and Haymitch hold me back. All the tributes are staring at us, and Joln shouts. "This is all your fault Odair! You should have stayed away! You've never been good for her!"

"Let it go." Haymitch fiercely whispers into my ear. "You can't be acting this way. Definitely not here."

I struggle at first, but when I see they won't let go, I stop. Heria releases my arm, and is breathing heavily. "I've never seen Finnick Odair lose his cool. Must be pretty big."

I shake Haymitch off and begin walking towards the elevators. "Leave me alone."

Of course Haymitch doesn't and he comes into the elevator with me. Before I can press any of the buttons, he pushes R for roof. Well, this is the best time for us to talk. I need to discuss a few things with him. We wait until the doors open again and step outside. The wind is always howling up here despite the force field, and his hair crazily whips in and out of his face. We walk to the edge where he spread his hands over the concrete.

There's anger, but also resignation. "I saw her reaping. She's the one from the train, right?"

"She is." I tell him. Our voices are almost carried away which is why we can speak freely her.

"You can't go around behaving like that Finnick. You know that." Haymitch slightly reprimands. "Snow is only so tolerant."

I sigh and shake my head in anger. "I need to keep her alive."

Haymitch gives a bitter laugh. "And how are you going to do that? You're not that important."

"Roses." Is all I say.

There's shock on Haymitch's face because he understands what I mean. When I met Snow's niece, she told me about his journal containing assassination plots, and immediately after, I told Haymitch the first chance I got. This is invaluable information to the rebellion; we only need an opportunity at the right time to use it. We've been waiting for that.

Earnestly, Haymitch grips my shoulders. "You can't Finnick. That is essential information. And I think this year might be it. The boy from Twelve might be the _one_." Haymitch's eyes are pleading because we've all been looking for a tribute who can inspire the districts. "He's strong, determined, loyal, sacrificing. He has the potential to be the inspiration the districts need."

"No." I say loudly. "No. Annie needs to be the victor. You need to convince your tributes to ally with her, and keep her alive."

"Are you not listening Finnick?" Haymitch growls. "He might be the one we've all been looking for. The one who can set everything in motion. It's the moment we've all been waiting for."

I put my hand on Haymitch's forearms, and softly say. "I love her Haymitch." His eyes flicker with grief. "I can't lose her. Not like this. She's here because of me. You saw the way she volunteered. Annie wanted to die because she saw my Capitol stays on the screen. The only reason she cares about living is because she knows about my prostitution now." I hold my stance. "You need to tell your tributes she'll be a good ally because I'm her mentor and they'll never be in want of resources. You have to help me save the girl I love."

Haymitch's face is torn. After what the Capitol did to him, he's been living off his hatred to fuel his will to keep moving forward. He is a part of the rebellion because it means freeing the districts, but it's also because he wants to bring down the government that killed all his loved ones. What I am asking of Haymitch is more than I ever deserve to ask for. It means Haymitch will need to sacrifice the boy who could possibly be our savior, all for the girl I love. This is the moment he's been waiting for, the moment he's been breathing and living for, and I'm asking him to let it go.

There's resentment in his eyes, but Haymitch releases my shoulders and I let my arms drop as well. He angrily paces around and cusses. Finally, he stops in front of me. "I'll do this for you Odair. Just know that what you are asking is possibly jeopardizing our entire future. And when there comes a time that I need anything from you, and I mean anything, you have to say yes. Understood?"

"I understand." I say without hesitation.

"Good." He replies still pissed. Haymitch goes back to the wall and looks out at the Capitol. I join him and don't say anything. Thanking him would only make him angrier. He sighs heavily and looks at the sky. "When my family and Gretchen were killed, I tried to kill myself. But Snow anticipated that and set up peacekeepers at my house to keep surveillance. They don't let us die so easily." Haymitch faces me, his temper obviously cooled. "No one should have to watch their loved ones die. That is what the parents from Twelve will do. So if Annie becomes victor, you love her well and do everything in your power to make her better. She's weak, I can tell, and if she wins, she won't come out of this the same. I know we all don't, but it'll change her more than you think. Just be aware of that."

He nods at me and heads back to the elevator. I stay here as I think about what Haymitch said. If Annie wins, and she will because she has to, will her mind completely fracture and she'll be completely gone? Not even pieces of the girl I once knew left? Will there be anything left of her? Or will she be a completely, and I mean completely different person with no traces of the old? If she is, then I will still love her endlessly as the new person she becomes.

* * *

_Annie POV_

Hideous faces, hungry hands, screaming laughter—they want to devour me! They want to consume my soul and rip me to pieces! No! No! They're nothing but flesh eating, blood thirsting foul vermins! And they want me! I begin to struggle out of their arms and their lines as they try to drag me back. They try to hold me down so they can eat my face!

"Annie! Calm down! Please, it's me." Someone says.

Another voice I don't know. "Push another of morphling with a trace of sedation."

"No!" A voice screams and it must be mine because it sounds like me, and it feels like it came from my throat.

My eyes snap open and it's confusion. Strangers in white coats are hanging bags on metal racks, and they're looking down at me. Then like a beautiful light, those sea green eyes fill my vision to keep me grounded. "Annie, it's me. Stop fighting, you're okay."

I look around me and see that these people look a bit more normal. Aside from their coats. I hold my hand out on the bed, and I feel his slip into mine. "Finnick?"

"It's me. I'm here. Don't be scared." Finnick quietly says and kisses my hand. "I'm here."

There's a small tube in my arm, and the needle is held in place with tape. "What happened?"

Old worry fills his face. "You passed out during the chariot ride. You dislocated your shoulder, and got a few cuts, but they've been giving you medicine."

"Does that mean I can't participate in the games?" I vainly ask.

Finnick shakes his head, and he lowers his head. "You've only been out a few hours, you'll be back to your regular physical state in a few more. The medicine and health treatments here are a lot faster."

I whisper. "I'm scared Finnick."

Finnick leans over and kisses my forehead. "I know you are. We're going to get through this."

A tear falls from my eye and he wipes it away. I press my face into his hand. "Don't leave me. Stay with me every moment until the game."

"I'll stay with you every moment I can." Finnick tells me. And I know what he means. There will have to be times when we're apart. When I train, when he has clients. It's the sad truth. Our lives are now the Capitol's and they can fully dictate what we do.

I kiss Finnick's palm before I ask. "Where's Joln?"

A slight amount of hurt fills Finnick's face, but he nods his head towards the door with understanding. "He's waiting outside. He wanted to talk with you when you woke up."

"Can I see him?" I ask Finnick.

"Annie," Finnick quietly breathes, "you don't have to ask me. Of course you can see him. I'll get him right now."

"Thank you." I sigh. Finnick gets up to leave, but I hold onto his hand and pull him towards me. I try to sit up, so Finnick helps me readjust myself, and then I lean in to kiss him. After a few seconds we part, and I whisper. "I love you."

"I love you." Finnick replies and gives me one more kiss before leaving to get Joln.

Joln enters the room and gives me a small smile. "Hey. How are you feeling?"

"Better I suppose."

He pulls a chair up and sits beside my hospital bed. "That's good." Joln keeps his eyes on me and tilts his head. A long pause, and then. "I believed one day you would love me. I always knew you didn't, but I had to hope."

"I'm sorry." I softly say.

Joln shakes his head and gives a false breathy laugh. "Don't be. You don't choose who you love. It's the way things go."

I fold my hands on top of each other in front of me. "Did you try to move on?"

"I did." Joln tells me. "It didn't work."

"Why not?" I ask.

Joln's green eyes flicker with regret, and he shakes his black hair out of his face. He folds his tan hands on top of each other too. "Because I volunteered to be here with you."

My stomach churns. "You were seeing someone when you volunteered?"

He nods. "It wouldn't have worked out anyway. She wanted a family and I couldn't give that to her. Not with my parents or knowing one day that if I had children they would be subject to reapings."

"Did she come to say goodbye?"

A bitter smile. "No. She knew why I volunteered. That said enough."

The air feels cold and the sheets too thin. The impact of my volunteering will extend beyond the borders of my knowledge. I'll never know how widespread the effect of my actions will be. This is only the price I can see. I thought I could go peacefully, without much damage—how skewed was my perception. It was so easy to think people would move on, but I ignored how much they actually cared.

This will be my biggest regret. "I wish I could change all of this."

Joln puts his elbows to his knees, and rests his chin on his hands. "I don't know, it helped me make the decision I couldn't make for myself. It's better that I'm doing it for you."

"You wanted to kill yourself?" I ask in shock.

"Not exactly. But I didn't want to live anymore." He gives me a half smile. "I know I didn't treat you the way I should have, and maybe that prevented you from loving me. It kills me to say this, but I can tell I don't understand you the way Finnick does. And that's what you need. That's something I can't give to you because even now, I don't understand you. I've tried to, but I just don't."

My fingers fidget with each other. "You're not alone. I don't understand me sometimes." I pick at the nail polish on my fingernails, then look up at Joln. "You know I didn't leave you for Finnick, right?"

He sighs and rubs his face. "It's hard for me to believe that. You seemed different around him. Even in the beginning. He would make you laugh and smile in a way I never did. There was just this life in you whenever he came by."

"Joln," I slowly say so he'll know I'm speaking truthfully, "I didn't leave you for Finnick. I promise." My shoulders slowly shrug, "We just ended up together."

Doubt still fills Joln's eyes, but there's more belief than there's ever been before. "I guess I need to let the jealousy go."

I shake my head. "You have every right to hold onto whatever you're feeling. This is the most unfair for you."

My eyes begin to droop, and I know the drugs are beginning to take over. Joln sees this, and stands up. "It is what it is." He leans forward and lightly kisses my forehead. "Get some rest, I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight Annie."

I try to reply, but my lips are too heavy and the light weakens until it's darkness again.

* * *

When I wake up, I'm paralyzed by fear because I think I'm still in the hospital. But as I look around before my body can respond, I see that I'm in a beautiful room. Movement returns to my body, and I turn my head to see Finnick asleep next to me. His arms are wrapped around me, and suddenly I feel like I couldn't be anywhere safer. He looks tired and worried.

It's selfish of me because I know he doesn't sleep well, but I can't help myself. I kiss his cheek and he begins to stir. I kiss his cheek again, and his eyes flutter open. In a groggy voice, he smiles and says. "Morning."

I stare into his eyes and kiss his nose. "I love you."

The effect of my words visibly washes over Finnick, and he tightens his arms around me pulling me closer. His lips press to mine, and I stay under for a while. The feel of Finnick's thumb on my cheek soothes the horrors pressing at the back of my mind. Finnick kisses me lightly several times, and then he kisses my forehead.

He strokes the side of my face. "I never thought I would hear you say that again."

"I love you." I tell him again. My arm curls around his and I place my hand on his left shoulder. "I love you, Finnick Odair."

Finnick bows his head, and he gently rests his chin on my chest. There's the disbelief I've seen so often, and the guilt I finally know the reason for. His right hand is on my ribs, and he traces his fingers along my skin. "I will always love you Annie."

"We're going to get through this Finnick. I'm not as weak as everyone thinks. As long as it doesn't come down to only Joln and I, I'll try my best to survive. I want to come back to you." I tell him.

"You have to come back to me." Finnick whispers in a tortured voice. "I love you too much to let you go."

"I'll do my best." Is all I can assure him. Because anyone can win, the odds have flipped before, but One or Two usually take the crown.

We lie here for a bit until there's a knock on the door. Kenin. "Breakfast is ready. Unless you two want to use the instant order. Then Annie and Joln need to head down in an hour."

"We'll be out." Finnick tells him. Assumedly Kenin's left because there's no reply. Finnick pushes up with his arms so he's hovering over me. "Ready?"

I nod. He leans down and kisses me, then rolls onto his side to let me up. We exit the room and find Kenin and Joln eating at the table with Revana. Revana looks up and I can see some contempt. "Now that you're both here, we can discuss this week's schedule."

Kenin sarcastically replies. "Goodie."

Revana shoots him a look and I assume they didn't get along from the very beginning. "As I was saying, today's schedule will be training from eight until twelve, lunch for an hour, then training resumes from one until six. Dinner will be at seven. The next three days will continue this way. On day five, there will be the gamemakers' assessment, day six will be the interview, and day seven the games begin."

No one says anything, and Revana is looking at Joln and I expectantly, clearly waiting for some kind of reply. Finally Kenin speaks up. "Now that that enthralling bit of information is done, can we eat our breakfast in peace?"

"You were far more pleasant on the train." She snippily tells him.

"So were you." Kenin nonchalantly says. Then he looks up and flashes her a smile. "Perhaps we should drink together more often."

This makes Revana blush and she excuses herself about having to do something. I look at Finnick and shake my head. "You rubbed off on him too much."

Finnick laughs holding up his hands. "That's all him. Nothing to do with me."

We all laugh, and surprisingly Joln joins in too. Kenin rolls his eyes. "Don't give Finnick my credit. That's insulting."

Now we all burst out laughing and I'm so glad that despite our situation, there are still moments like these. All of us hold a conversation until our hour is nearly up, and Joln and I need to head to the underground level where the Training Room is. As Joln and I stand outside the elevators, Kenin gives my hand a squeeze. "You'll be fine. Spend your time at the survival stations. It'll be useful in the—" He breaks off, unable to finish.

Finnick kisses my cheek since Joln is right here. "Kenin's right, don't spend a lot of time at the weapon station. Spend some time there just to become familiar with the weapons, but nothing fancy. Your best chance will be the natural resources."

"Survival stations, not weapons." I repeat.

Finnick nods and looks at Joln. "You look strong so spend time with the weapons. Find out which one fits you best and practice. The other tributes will always be watching so just be aware of that. If you don't feel comfortable with a weapon, choose a different one. You don't want them to see your weaknesses."

"Alright." Joln actually says with sincerity.

Joln and I step into the elevator while Finnick and Kenin keep their eyes on us until the doors close. As the elevator goes down down into the air, some of yesterday's panic begins to return. My breaths become rapid and short, and I don't have much time to pull it together because we're passing Level 1.

"Annie," Joln casually says, "you're not alone in this. I'm here for you. I would think all the other tributes are truly in this alone, but you're not. You are not alone." He finishes looking at me.

I inhale deeply through my nostrils, and slowly exhale through my mouth. "I trust you."

Relief fills Joln's face, and he replies. "Good. Remember what they said, survival station. That's all you have to do. I will do the rest for you."

The doors begin to open. "I will do whatever I can for you." I reply.

Joln smiles and we walk out of the elevator as a fully committed team for the first time in what has been far too long.

* * *

_Finnick POV_

Next to me, Kenin clenches his hand unable to hide his anxiety. I've been gone most of the day, attending to various clients, and when I entered the mentor's room I wondered how long he's stayed tense the way he is. Probably every moment he's been in here, and even when he was with his clients. Annie looks around before attempting to trigger a snare she's created, and when she pushes the rope with a stick, her snare falls apart. This causes Kenin to lean forward and grip his chair until his knuckles are white.

"Kenin." I whisper. "You need to relax. The other mentors will be watching our reaction as well, and they can easily spot when we don't feel a tribute will do well."

He looks over at me, and pries his hand from the chair. Kenin's chest inflates, and he releases the air in one quick breath. This seems to help, but I can still see the tension in his shoulders. By now, Annie has moved on to the fire station. She sits there for a while staring at the sticks and flint.

Next to me, Wiress quietly says to Beetee. "She reminds me of…"

"You?" Beetee asks.

"Yes." Wiress nods. "Her mind comes and goes."

Annie's expression or body language hasn't changed, but I guess the mentally unstable can easily spot those similar to them. When Annie and I were together before the Victory Tour, she seemed there. Aware of what was going on most of the time. But even during that period, certain moments did seem a bit strange. Not in a bad way. Only slightly noticeable. When I first met her, she seemed more unaware. After the Victory Tour, she was like a ghost. I never saw her outside, but the two times I did before she was reaped, the girl I knew had collapsed into herself. And now, she's with me most of the time. But sometimes she retreats so far into herself that it takes me a bit to coax her back out.

"Look at that…" Wiress breathes in amazement.

"She got a fire on her first try." Beetee agrees in amazement.

I look back into the Training Room and see a small fire crackling in front of Annie. She's holding a piece of flint and small steel knife. There's a wild look in her eyes as she stares at what she's created. A huge grin plays onto her lips, and she shakes her head in amazement. Most tributes struggle while trying to find the right angle to strike the flint against steel, and how hard they should be hitting the two together. And I'm so proud of my girl.

Annie stands up to put out the fire, but she trips and scatters the burning embers onto the girl from Two. The girl from Two has bright red hair which is unusual, and she shrieks as the embers eat through her outfit and burn her flesh. She and Annie swat at her suit until the sparks putter out, and once that's over, the girl from Two glares at Annie.

She shoves Annie. "You did that on purpose!"

"No, no." Annie furiously tries to convince her. "I tripped and my foot hit the sticks."

Her partner with blue eyes and blonde hair, holds her back. "I am going to kill you in the arena! You're first on my list!"

Everyone has stopped training and is watching the escalation. Joln quickly walks over to them, and he puts an arm around Annie who is shaking. Which makes me want to barge into the room and tell him to take his hands off her, but there's nothing I can do but watch. The girl's partner pulls her away because several of the training overseers are watching them closely, but the girl threatens Annie one more time. "Wait for me in the arena, Four! I will find you, and watch your blood soak the ground!"

Joln has lead Annie over to the edible plant station, where he holds onto her and rubs her back as she tries to calm down. This makes me insanely jealous because I cannot be there to comfort her. And I begin to worry that through this ordeal, all of Annie's heart will no longer belong solely to me.

Kenin must sense some anxiety because he quietly tells me. "She loves you Finnick."

I turn to my left to look at Kenin, and inadvertently I see Haymitch leaning back in his chair watching me. "Will she after though? If she wins."

"I don't know." Kenin honestly replies. "I hope so."

There's a look of pity from Haymitch which unnerves me because he never gives anyone much sympathy, but he must put some pieces together as to why Joln volunteered. I look out to the room when I hear tributes approach Annie and Joln. "Hey, you guys are from Four right?"

Annie pulls away from Joln, and he nods. "Yeah."

The boy point to himself, "I'm Nolan," he points to the girl, "this is Diana."

"Joln."

"Annie."

Nolan nods. "Seeing how things are going with you and the other Careers, we would like to team up with the two of you. There's safety in numbers right? Four Careers, four of us. We'll be evenly matched."

"What district are you from?" Joln questions debating if they should be trusted.

As if asking for a challenge, Nolan boldly states. "Twelve."

"Alright. Allies." Joln replies. He knows in general, District Twelve is one of the districts you worry the least about. Their only victor is Haymitch, and that was about twenty years ago. Their tributes tend to look sickly and starved, and are usually killed in the initial bloodbath. In other words, they are no real threat.

And when I look over at Haymitch, I know he's kept his promise.

He raises his eyebrows, and brings a flask to his lips.

* * *

_Annie POV_

Though I've had a decent amount of free time between training and the gamemakers' assessments and my prep time, I've barely got to see Finnick. He's away at parties and meeting his clients that by the time he gets back, I'm asleep, somewhere else at the Capitol's bidding, or he's sleeping. And I know he wants to be with me because he'll come in and try so hard to stay awake, but the drowsiness gets to him within minutes.

Just last night after they screened my score of five, Finnick was summoned away on his business. There was fear and panic in his eyes as he kissed my cheek and left our suite. I haven't seen him since. This entire day I've spent with my prep team and my stylist, Pollen. She's draped me in a beautiful light and dark blue dress that hangs off my arms and sweeps the floor with every step. Glittering white heels are strapped onto my feet and when I look at myself in the mirror, I'm taken aback.

The dress looks breathtaking. It's flowy and long, clinging to every inch of my skin with the excess fabric spilling over into the air. There's a high opening on my left leg which reveals the white heels as my dress moves like a swaying curtain. It has a plunging neckline past my navel which has been studded with tiny false jewels. My hair is twisted and tucked beneath layers of itself into an extravagant half-bun with the rest of my hair neatly pulled to my left side and placed over my shoulder so it hangs past my chest. Beautiful diamond earrings that dangle to my collarbones twinkle in the light. My lips are a light pink coated in a shiny gloss. And my eyes surrounded by a modest, but noticeable amount of eyeliner and sparkling beige eye shadow.

They've been trying to keep my look natural, but they've done one specific alteration. And I stare unable to look away. My eyes. There's something wrong with my eyes. They're a sea green similar to Finnick's. They're no longer a dark emerald green. I reach up and hold my fingers less than an inch away. "What happened to my eyes?"

Pollen is checking the dress for any last minute alterations. "You're lucky it worked on your eyes. Normally it only works if your eyes are near the same shade. Unless you do surgery, then you can have any eye color you want."

"What are you talking about?" I ask in disbelief at this change in appearance.

"Changing your eye color is like dyeing your hair. If you have a similar shade. We thought if you had the same eye color as Finnick, sponsors might be more inclined to help you. It's not the exact same shade, but it's as close as we could get without surgery. And we're not allowed to do surgery. Too bad to, I'm sure tributes would get sponsors more easily if we were."

I've stopped listening at this point. Is this a reversible change? I'm like Finnick and his flawless skin. I'll always have the mark of the Capitol.

* * *

I walk towards Joln and I can feel his heart skip. He's never seen me like this, and I've never seen him like this either. He's wearing a handsome dark blue suit with black pants and shiny black shoes. His hair has been shortened and styled to the front with spikes. And like me, his eye color has been changed.

Joln takes my hand. "You look beautiful."

I smile and stand next to him as they get us in order. "You look incredible."

We continue to take in the sight of the other person, and I look at his eyes. Joln puts a few fingers to the side of my eyes. "I liked your other color better."

"Me too." I tell him. His eyes are more like Finnick's, and it's so strange. "I think your other color was better too."

"Does it remind you too much of Finnick?" He asks.

"It does." I admit.

Joln lowers his head. "I won't die the way I was born. I'll die with the eyes they gave me."

I shake my head and sadly whisper. "If you die, you will still die you. They can't take that away."

He sighs. "They've already taken everything."

All of us are at the Capitol's mercy. They rule over us and we are their servants. We play dress up for their entertainment and we slaughter each other's children for their amusement. When they beckon, we come. Like Kenin, Finnick, Gloss, Cashmere, Heria. Do none of the Capitol people see how wrong all of this is? No matter how we look, beneath the layers of flesh, we are still the same blood and bone.

"We're going to do everything we can." I tell Joln.

"Everything." He emphasizes and agrees. "Neither of us gets to give up."

"No matter what."

Joln nods leaning forward to gently kiss me. And it happens so suddenly that by the time I can react, I feel the desperation of his kiss. And I hate myself for letting him kiss me because I love Finnick, but I stay in this kiss for a little bit before pressing my hands to his chest and slightly pushing him away.

I roll my lips in, and hold Joln's eye contact. "I love Finnick."

Without expectations, Joln states. "I love you."

"I'm sorry." I softly say. And I am sorry. For him. For Finnick. I'll have to tell Finnick about this, and I know it will hurt him, but I am done with the secrets. No more secrets.

"Don't be. I had my chance with you, and I blew it. That's on me." Joln replies. "You don't get to be sorry about this. If I didn't feel like our ending was my fault, I wouldn't have volunteered because I would have known I did everything I should have. But I didn't. And I think that's why I can't let you go. All the what if's."

"You're next." One of the backstage people says to Joln. "Let's go."

Neither of us realized the interviews have started. Joln begins to walk away, and he tries to comfort me. "See you on the other side."

"Yeah, you too." I tell him.

In moments Joln is on the screen as Caesar Flickerman welcomes him. This year, Caesar's hair, eyelids, and lips are purple along with his omnipresent blue suit that has light bulbs. "Welcome Joln Kendall of Four! So good to have you here." Joln gives him a nod, but doesn't reply. Caesar realizes most tributes wouldn't find it good to be here, so he quickly changes the topic. "So Joln, a score of nine, tell us, what qualities from Four do you believe allowed you to achieve such an outstanding score?"

"Well, I fished for most of my life back in Four. I was a fisherman." Joln says.

Caesar crosses his legs and leans forward. "You say was. Did something happen?"

"Something like that." Joln casually deflects. "After, I spent time working on boats. It requires a lot of heavy lifting so I'm strong too. I'm not Finnick Odair with his exceptional trident skills," hundreds of people in the crowds give screams, "but I have other qualities that can help me."

"Give us an example." Caesar laughs.

Joln just smiles and shakes his head. "You'll have to watch the game to find out."

More laughing, and Caesar turns to the crowd. "Well now we'll definitely have to stay tuned." Yells of agreement. "Which brings me to my next point. You volunteered to be here. Why?"

"Life." Joln says. I can tell Caesar is struggling to keep the conversation going because Joln is being distant and vague.

"You must have a girl back home though? What does she think?" Caesar asks with cheery intrigue.

Joln looks out at the crowd. "I do, I did. I don't know what she thinks."

"Didn't she come to visit you to say goodbye?" The crowd and Caesar seem sincerely intrigued now.

"No, she didn't."

Caesar raises his eyebrows. "Why not? A good looking fellow like you!"

Joln just sighs and stares into the cameras and it looks like he can see you. Maybe he's reaching out to whoever it is back home. "It's complicated, and I wasn't fair to her. I'm sorry."

A hush falls over the crowd, and for a moment Caesar doesn't know what to say. Then he reaches out and pats Joln on the knee. "Win the game, go back to Four, and tell her yourself and beg for her forgiveness!" The crowd roars in agreement like idiots. Joln just smiles but stays quiet. Caesar stands up and Joln does the same. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Joln Kendall of District Four!"

Joln walks off the stage as I am lead up. I can see the lights from where I am, and I see Caesar speaking into the microphone. "Ladies and Gentlemen, let us welcome Annie Cresta of District Four!" I walk out to stage, and am instantly blasted with their screams and the piercing light. It's a bit much, and I have to remember to breathe. Caesar is holding out his hand and I take it. "Good evening Annie, and may I say, you look absolutely breathtaking."

"Thank you." I say, and nervously reply. "So do you."

This sends the crowd into a fit of laughter and I have to keep my face composed rather than looking at them with confusion. Caesar pats the side of his hair and boyishly says, "Why thank you." We take a seat, and Caesar comments. "So, that was quite a fall you took during the Opening Ceremonies."

"I'm sure it was. But I don't remember it." I honestly reply.

They begin to laugh and I have to refrain myself from giving them a strange look. Caesar slaps his knee and laughs. "You're funny." I don't know what to say to that, so I just give him a smile. "Now, the question on everyone's mind is: why did you volunteer? Did you know the young girl who was reaped?"

I think back to the malnutritioned girl who walked with shaky knees to the platform. "I didn't."

"So what made you volunteer?"

I picture the guilt on Finnick's face, the wretched sob that escapes Yurol's lips, a pale expression on Joa's face, distraught confusion for Binsen and Lance, sorrow from Kenin. "I thought it was the right choice." They'll take it as, I thought it was the right thing to do in order to save the girl. But I mean it as, at the time, I thought it was the right choice because I didn't know the truth.

"What did your family say to you before you left?" And I hate Caesar for invasively asking these private questions no one but the people involved have the right to.

But I need to give the Capitol what they want. "They were hurt and angry, they didn't understand. They wanted me to try and win."

"Of course." He softly says grabbing my hand and patting it. "I'm sure they weren't expecting you to volunteer then."

"They weren't. No one was." I softly reply.

"Well you try your best to fulfill their expectations of having you return home to them!" Caesar yells and the crowd roars. He stands up and holds my hand. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Annie Cresta of District Four."

* * *

As soon as Joln and I were backstage, Finnick and Kenin led us back to our suite. Without a word, Finnick then took my hand and led me to his bedroom. Now, he holds me in his arms, face pressed into my hair. "I couldn't wait for you to be finished. All I could think about was how little time we've spent together, and how little time I have left."

We're standing by the bedroom door, and I bury my face in his chest. "Finnick, I have to tell you something."

"Anything." He whispers.

"Joln kissed me." I say.

Finnick stiffens, and he slowly pulls back. "What did you do?"

I swallow and face him. "I kissed him back." The hurt on Finnick's face is enough to destroy me for a thousand lifetimes. "It happened so fast, and I could feel how lonely he was. How sad he is. I couldn't just reject him all the way. I didn't kiss him for long. I pulled away and told him, I loved you."

"Do you love me Annie?" Finnick asks with unbearable doubt.

"I only love you Finnick." I say without hesitation and in a strong voice. "You may think a part of me loves Joln, but it's not that way. You are the only guy who I love this way. I love you, Finnick Odair."

Finnick raises a hand to my cheek. "You must think I'm selfish for being upset that you kissed him."

I wrap my hand around his and press my face to his palm. "No. What I did was free will. And it was unforgivable."

He shakes his head and presses our foreheads together. "Not unforgivable. I understand." Finnick sighs heavily and painfully says. "I understand. And I forgive you."

"Thank you." I whisper, and lean up to kiss him.

Finnick wraps his powerful arms around me, and lifts me off the floor. I hold onto him with my arms wrapped around his neck, and move my lips with his. As I'm carried to the bed, Finnick's right hand presses to my back. Very gently he lays me on the bed, and kisses me as we scoot upwards to have more room. My back arches in pleasure as Finnick drags his lips from my throat to my collarbone, and slowly lowers my dress' left sleeve. His fingers carress my breast until his lips make his way over there. And he lowers my right sleeve, slowly pulling my entire dress off as he lays kisses from the top of my body all the way down. Finnick kisses my inner thigh, then my knee, and my calf. With nimble fingers he easily removes the white heels so I am completely bare.

My legs wrap around his body as he kisses me in such a way that I grip the sheets and turn my head to the side unable to fight the coming waves. The intensity of my moans seem to bounce off the walls, and it's a never ending sound. They're loud and high, coming at quick intervals, and I keep saying his name over and over. Finally Finnick comes up and the only thing to quiet me are his lips pressed to mine as his fingers do the work where his lips previously were. So I moan into his mouth and press my head into the pillow trying to allow some kind of control. Finnick's breathing hard as he takes his time and controls his own body while he let's mine soak in the euphoria.

I press my hands to Finnick's face while I dig my heels into the bed, and arch my back even more. I hold onto his face for support. And I kiss him. Letting every kiss I've never given him over the past year and a half be given now because our time is running out. I kiss Finnick's eyes, nose, cheeks, throat, and I slightly push him so he rolls onto his back. I'm on top now while his fingers still do their work, and I kiss his chest through his unbuttoned shirt. I reach down to lift his shirt over his head, and Finnick is forced to remove his hands. When I've pulled his shirt over, he places his hands on my sides, his fingers feeling my back. My back curls as I lower my head to kiss his chest, and his stomach.

As I undo his pants, I can tell he's ready, so I take them off and then his boxers. Finnick groans with pleasure as I slowly kiss his legs and leave a trail of kisses across both his inner thighs while my hand strokes the only thing that can truly physically connect us together. Lock and key. I kiss him from the base to the tip until neither of us can wait anymore. I come back up to Finnick and press my lips to his, as I hold my other lips apart and he gently pushes in. He slowly enters as I lower my body and I know we're both savoring this moment. Because there might not be another moment like this for us. This may be our very last chance to make love.

So we move together and I straddle Finnick as he holds onto my hips—muscles and veins flexing. Our voices mix as I moan louder than him and with less control. I grip his forearms with my hands, and I can feel a thin layer of sweat on both our skins. Each stroke presses into me as I move my body to get the angles that make me grip Finnick's forearms so tightly that I actually leave bruises on him. It's slow, and each push and pull seems to intensify as if we can't be closer together between our connecting body parts. I force myself to loosen my grip, and I lean forward to kiss Finnick.

He uses this as my signal to hold onto me, as he flips me onto my back. Now that Finnick is on top, he leans over me and brushes the damp hair from my face. Beads of sweat have collected on the side of his face, and they drip onto my chest. I wipe the sweat from the side of his face, and raise my head from the bed to kiss him. As Finnick lowers his head so I can press my head back into the bed, he moves his hips slowly at first allowing me to adjust to our switched positions. As our voices intensify, and I pull Finnick in as hard as I can, he begins to move his hips faster while pushing with an urge of never letting go.

My moans become near screams, and even Finnick has a hard time controlling his volume. Several times he doesn't, and I'm sure everyone in this building can hear us. Finnick's arms slide beneath my back and pull my body closer to his. My arms wrap around him and my hands grip onto his muscular mounds so I can hold him closer to me there. My legs are spread apart, and wrapped around his, locking them in place. Finnick presses his face into the pillow above my head, and I press my face into his neck. He's letting out muffled moans that would probably be deafening if the pillow wasn't a mediator.

Our bodies are slick with sweat, and it's insufferably hot in here. I can feel the beads of sweat dripping down from both our bodies and soaking the sheets. And then I feel Finnick release after he pushes in and holds that position for several seconds. Twice. It's such a wonderful coming together, and he continues to push in and out, very gradually slowing his rhythm. Easing us both down until our heart rates have slowed back into one beat. Finnick stays in me while we lie in bed catching our breath.

He lifts his head, and presses his fingers to the side of my left eye tracing the skin in that area. I keep my legs wrapped around Finnick still, and place my hands on his rigid muscular arms. He's clenching the bed sheets with his left hand trying to compose himself again. Slowly Finnick's arm relaxes, and he raises his hand to carress my breast. His thumb stroking the most sensitive part. My body clenches, and Finnick lightly kisses my lips, his fingers still resting on the side of my eye.

When I open my eyes again, Finnick is staring into mine with such intensity that it slightly frightens me. I whisper. "Finnick."

"Annie." He whispers back. "Annie, Annie, Annie." Finnick's eyes close and I know he's taking in every second and everything we just did. "I thought we would never make love again. But we did." He opens his eyes and a tear falls onto my cheek. "You gave your body to me again after everything. You still love me after all this time. I don't know what to say to that."

I hold his left hand with mine, and press it to my chest. "Tell me you love me."

Finnick smiles at me with so much love that I'm not so afraid of the games anymore, rather, of everything I have to lose with him. He leans down and kisses my lips. "Annie Cresta, I love you." Nothing but sincerity is in his voice. "I would want to have a family with you, if I could. I'd never considered it before because it means they would possibly get reaped, but for you, I'd do it. I'd want us to do it. To raise a family together." There's pain in Finnick's sea green eyes. "But I can't give you that. And I'm sorry."

Very firmly, I hold Finnick's face in my hands. "You don't apologize for that Finnick. Ever. I love you as you are. Not based on what you can give me. As you are, this man, right now. You. I love _you_."

He kisses my cheek, and I release my legs so he can pull back. Finnick raises his body, and he quietly tells me. "You're bleeding."

I raise my body and look. Finnick appears rather worried, so very calmly I tell him. "It's been awhile. I haven't been with anyone since you. A little bit of bleeding is normal." Now he looks incredibly guilty, so I sit up and lean into his body. "I don't care about who you've been with. I've only ever cared about how you truly felt about me."

"I love you." He quietly says to assure me.

I press my cheek to Finnick's chest as he wraps an arm around me. "I know now. That's the only thing that matters." I look up and Finnick feels this movement so he looks down. I raise my head and kiss him. "I love you too."

And though we can now hear the cheering from the Capitol outside, though the Hunger Games will still happen tomorrow, though I will probably meet my inevitable death, Finnick and I can still manage to find happiness during the worst time of our life. We can still love and know it exists. We still have each other, even if it's not for much longer. Tomorrow will come. Right now, I want to be in love with my Finnick Odair.

* * *

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

next will be annie's game, just out of curiosity, i'm not gonna change my plan, but what kind of arena do you guys picture for annie's game? aside from the dam, obviously. lol


	32. Chapter 32: 70th HG part 1

**thank you readers, and as promised, here is the 70th HG! enjoy**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Two: 70****th**** Hunger Games Part 1**

_Annie POV_

Rain falls onto my upturned face as I stare at the black sky. My waterproof jacket whips around crazily in the howling wind which sends ice cold chills beneath my layers of flesh all the way into my bones. Streaks of lightening illuminate the dark clouds and then the _crack_ of thunder jolts me out of this daze. There's another _crack_ and my eyes widen in fear. This is it. I'm in the arena.

My hair sticks to my face in wild, wet strands as I take a look at the surrounding tributes. Their faces are filled with grim determination. Most of them are looking around with crazed eyes, and I see Joln. He's more than eight tributes to my left. The boy Nolan is directly on my right, and Diana is a few tributes away from him. The lightening stops and all is darkness. Even the wind and rain stop—there's no sound. Only the timer counting down as it flashes and disappears to show the next second.

Eight. Darkness. Seven. Darkness. Six. Darkness. Five. Darkness. Four. Darkness. Three. Darkness. Two. Darkness. One. Darkness. Zero…

The lightening and thunder start up again filling my eardrums with each _crack_ as wind and rain pound us towards hypothermia. I've jumped off my platform, but am on the ground—knees and palms bleeding. The landscape is filled with loose, jagged rocks making a clear run near impossible as the water from the rain sloshes around. Several tributes have found their balance and are heading towards the Cornucopia, a few of the Careers already armed with weapons. Everyone's movements seem to come in snippets as the lightening distorts my vision, and it looks like they're skipping through time.

Somebody grabs my arm and hauls me up. I turn my head, and Nolan is gritting his teeth. "C'mon! We have to go!"

"We have to get Joln!" I scream over the thunder and wind.

"Where do you think we're going!" He yells back.

Diana is next to Nolan holding a pack, and the three of us run in the direction of Joln's platform. Another tribute, a boy from Seven, I think, comes running at us. I'm too scared to think, but Nolan is prepared. I watch as he smashes a rock—he must have picked up from the ground—into the boy's face. A gush of blood sprays us in the face, although the rain instantly washes it away. The boy lies on the ground twitching, but Nolan keeps pulling me along.

I'm trying to look back at the boy, but Nolan jerks my arm. "He'll die from blood loss or another tribute! We don't have time for that!"

"There he is!" Diana screams as her words are carried away by the wind.

This keeps me grounded as I look through the flashes of lightening to find Joln. He's struggling on the ground with a girl from Ten. She has a rock and is about to bring it down on his face. A terrified cry erupts from my throat. "Noo!"

But there's nothing we can do. Except Joln can. He swings a fist into her face, and gets the upper hand. As the girl lies on the ground stunned, I watch Joln get to his feet and viciously kick at her head in one motion. Her head violently twists to the right, and her entire body stops moving. She's dead. Joln is alive.

He stands there gaping at the life he's taken, when I run to him. Very forcefully he grabs my arms pressing them to my sides, and I see the look of horror in his lightening illuminated eyes. Joln realizes who I am, and he yells. "I didn't, she was going to, there was no other way!"

"Let's go!" Diana screams at us. She's pointing into an unknown direction with Nolan at her side and he adamantly nods his head in that direction.

The four of us begin running, but not before watching Emerald, the girl from One, viciously raise a sword above her head, and then slashing down at a boy from Five. He falls backwards with a gaping wound from face to torso, and his bloody viscera spill onto the rocks. Behind her, Stephen, the boy from Two, manually plunges an arrow into Nelt's eye. Stephen rips the arrow out from the Ten's boy, and begins to repeatedly stab Nelt in the torso. Before I look away, Nelt's upper torso seems to collapse, and it's because the force from Stephen's pounding hands have crushed Nelt's ribs.

Joln grabs my hand through the chaos of thunder, lightening, rain, wind, slaughter, violence, and yells. "Look away Annie!"

We've passed the Cornucopia leaving it behind us, and I keep my eyes ahead listening to him. It only took a matter of seconds for this bloodbath to unfold, and I've seen enough of death. All these lives taken within minutes, and I know I will never be the same. To actually be here watching as people kill each other, it shakes everything you ever thought you knew about people and their ability to be good. We're selfish and evil and murderers.

We pass another body on our way to nowhere, and we change directions, now running right of original direction. This darkness only illuminated by the lightening seems to go on forever, and I begin to believe it will never end. We'll be running for our entire lives until everyone dies from exhaustion. The blackness will consume us. Our skin will never know what it's like to be dry again. My ears will never know anything but the continuous _crack_ of thunder. The wind will always howl.

"Up ahead!" Nolan screams for everyone to hear. "There's some kind of wall!"

My eyes strain to see in the flashes of lightening, and I begin to see a solid shape rising. Joln yells back at Nolan. "Do you think this is the edge!"

"It can't be! It's too soon!" Diana yells. "We can't be in one big room with all flat land!"

We slow our pace as we approach the wall, but as we near, we realize it's not a wall. We're at the bottom of a steep cliff made of bigger, jagged rocks melded together to create this barrier. It's slanted enough we can climb, but steep enough that any wrong moves and you would not have any place to stop you from tumbling down. You'd either fall to your death, or have your body be smashed and possibly impaled on some of the rocks that have sharper edges.

"Should we climb!" I yell.

"At least high enough that we'll be safe from other tributes!" Nolan yells back. "It has to go somewhere! I don't believe they'd make the edge this near! Not with the landscape!"

And that's when we get our answer. There's a long flash of lightening which lasts several seconds—long enough for us to see trees at the top—followed by a massive _crack_ of thunder that shakes the rocks beneath our feet, and showers us with rock fragments from the side of the cliff. While the entire arena is still lit, we look around and see that the Cornucopia is sitting in the middle of a massive crater, and the same cliff layout encircles this entire area. The only way out, is up.

"The Careers will probably stay at the Cornucopia for a few days!" Diana yells through the thunder. "They'll pick off anyone who is still here! This crater is a mile in diameter—a mile and a half at most! We need to get out of here!"

Joln nods to show he agrees, so I nod too. That's when we begin our ascent. One foot at a time, one hand at time, rock by rock. It's one, maybe two hundred feet up, and there's no real place to rest. My limbs are shaking from the cold, and my fingers are going numb as I painstakingly put one hand above the other. All I want to do is rest, take a break, but where could I lie down?

I'm falling behind, and we're not even a quarter of the way there. Tears begin to stream down my face, and the energy begins to drain from my arms and legs. I look back down, and see how gruesome it would be if I fell.

"Annie!" Joln yells from ahead/above. "Annie keep looking up!" I face him again, and he's looking down at me with a determined expression. "I'm right here, you can do this! You can do this!" I force myself to keep moving, and minutes later, I'm next to Joln whose been waiting for me. "I got you!" He assures me as the rain pours down his face. "Just keep moving, we'll be there soon!"

As we make our way up, I cry because every part of me wants to give up already, and I am so exhausted. My muscles on burning with pain and it feels like they will tear in half. Now, my fingers are cut and bloody from the sharp rocks we've been clinging to, and my shins are scraped as well. The human body was never meant to go through this sort of endurance. Our bodies are meant to function, not to be broken and torn to shreds. There is only so much it can withstand.

At this point, I am sobbing because every inch of me wants to let go and give up. Have this all be done with, but Joln keeps yelling at me. "You don't get to give up! We're almost there! Just a little bit more! That's it! Don't give up! You promised! That's it! You're almost there Annie! One more! We'll be there! Just a little bit more!"

And it feels like my mind is about to completely tear, when I feel someone clasp my hand. I'm too tired to raise my head. I push with my legs, and push with my right arm, as they pull me by my left arm. Nolan or Diana, whoever, pulls me over the last edge and I collapse at the top. Someone is helping Joln up and he falls to his knees beside me while I lie on the ground. My face is on the ground, rocks pressing into my cheek as I cry in relief that I have firm ground beneath me.

Joln reaches out, and pushes strands of my hair out of my face. "It's over! We made it!" He looks up at the tributes from Twelve. "Thank you!"

Nolan is watching the both of us, and he yells above the thunder. "Don't mention it! But we should find some shelter!"

"Wait!" I sob. I push myself up, and unsteadily get to my feet as my muscles scream in agony. Over the thunder I ask. "Did any of you get water bottles in your packs!"

"Yeah!" Diana yells as she looks through their pack, and there's a _crack _of thunder that sounds like it came directly from over our heads. "We got three!"

"Take them out!" I tell her. She does, and I unscrew the top of one of them. I run to a tree and tear of its leaf, the, wrap it around the bottle's opening to make a funnel. "Do this! We don't know the landscape and this might be our only source of water for awhile."

We fill the bottles, and use the leaves to directly funnel water into our mouths. After we've drank for nearly a minute, the thunder dies and Diana says in a loud voice. "Guys, look!"

"Is the bloodbath still!" Nolan realizes he's yelling although the thunder and wind have died down, "Is the bloodbath still going on?" He asks in a hoarse voice since we've been screaming at each other.

The four of us stand on the edge of the cliff in the rain and watch as a guy, probably Shiner from One, smashes some metallic object into a girl's head. From here it looks like her head explodes. The red spraying across the ground in disoriented flashes. And there's that same eerie silence that the game began with on the final second.

Then, like thunder, the canons boom echoing across the entire arena and shaking the ground. _Boom. _One. _Boom._ Two. _Boom._ Three. _Boom._ Four. _Boom._ Five. _Boom. _Six. _Boom._ Seven. The last canon _boom_ fills the crater and drifts up past over the cliffs filling our insides with a haunted echo. Seven people have been claimed in the bloodbath leaving seventeen of us left, and as always, only one victor. Sixteen people still have yet to die.

* * *

After walking for about half a mile, we found a big enough thicket to shelter everyone, and keep us mostly dry. The ground is damp, and water droplets filter through, but it's better than standing in the downpour. Joln is sitting next to me, and Diana and Nolan are on my right. All of our backs are pressed against a rock. Thankfully this prevents a surprise attack from behind.

A parachute arrives in front of both Joln and I. Diana and Nolan pretend to busy themselves with conversation, but I can tell they're wondering what's in our parachute. Haymitch hasn't sent them anything. Joln and I open the parachute.

_Destroy this note. Stay alive until Day 5. Be ready then. And share the medicine. Stitch if needed. – F & K_

I discreetly tear up the note, and bury it in the ground. Joln takes out a container of medicine, and a transparent bag that has four curved needles and a thin spool of thread no thicker than a pencil. This is meant for all of us. Tributes don't usually share even with their district partners, so to share with allies from a different district means Finnick and Kenin have a plan.

Finnick… With the chaos of the game, this is the first time I've thought about him. He's watching me. I know he is. I can't see him, but he is fighting for me. The love of my life and I are so close, yet so undeniably far. I look up in hopes that there's a camera focused on us, and I silently mouth, Thank you.

Joln opens the medicine container, and dips his fingers inside. "Hold out your hands Annie." I do it because he won't listen to my objections that I can do it myself. Very gently, he rubs the medicine over my fingers and palms. "Where else are you hurt?" I lift my shredded pants up, and Joln rubs the medicine over my shins.

When he's finished, he applies the medicine onto his hands and legs as well. I take the container from his hand, and tell him. "Turn your head to the right, no, my right." I rub the medicine over a gash above his eyebrow. Probably from that girl.

When I'm finished, I turn to Diana and Nolan. "Where are you guys hurt?"

They glance at each other and Nolan hesitantly asks. "You're going to give us some of your medicine?" I nod. "Why?"

"We're allies." I simply tell him.

Nolan looks suspicious, but he eventually says. "Well, thanks. You can treat Diana first. I'll wait."

"Alright." I reply.

Diana holds out her hands and I cover them in the medicine which is halfway gone. She lifts her pants up too, and I smear the medicine over the various gashes and cuts. When I'm done with Diana, I get up and go over to Nolan. He tenderly lifts his pants up, and I smother them in medicine. Nolan holds out his left hand, and I cover that. He keeps his right arm down.

"Are you going to show me your right hand?" I ask.

He looks uncomfortable and hesitantly asks. "I saw needles and thread."

I take them out from my jacket pocket. "Yeah, do you need stitches?"

"I don't know, what do you think?" Nolan asks almost jokingly as he holds out his right hand, palm up, and I see a deep gash run from his palm to the length of half his forearm.

"Why didn't you say anything before?" I exclaim and I look into his grey eyes.

Nolan pushes black hair from out of his eyes, and he shrugs. "I wasn't expecting any help for it."

I scoot over to his right side and cross my legs so I can get a better look. Nolan keeps his legs straight out, so I place the clear bag on his thigh. I take his right arm and examine it. I've never done stitches. Yurol always did them. Very quietly I whisper. "Yurol."

"What?" Nolan asks.

I look up and sigh. "My best friend, she always did the stitches. I just watched. Does anyone else know how to do them?"

Joln and Diana shake their head. Nolan laughs a bit ironically. "I'm the only one who knows who to do them, and I'm the one who needs them? I think I can do it myself."

"Are you sure?" I ask. "I can try, maybe. If you tell me what to do."

Nolan nods. "It would be better if someone with two hands did it. You've watched enough to know what they should look like in the end, right?"

"Yes?" I reply although it's a question.

"Good enough." He responds. It's cold, so my hands are shaking as I grab a curved needle and take the spool of thread out. After about a minute of trying to get the thread through the needle's eye, Nolan finally intervenes. "Let me try." He carefully holds the needle between his left thumb and pointer, and takes the thread with his right thumb and pointer. With far more steady hands, he slowly get the thread into the eye, and he pulls the thread through. Nolan hands it back to me. "Here you go."

"Thanks." I tell him.

He laughs. "I should be the one thanking you."

I breathe in and uncomfortingly say. "We'll see."

Nolan raises his eyebrows and grins. "You'll be fine. Before you start stitching me up, can you put the medicine in the wound?"

"Yeah." I say. I dip my fingers into the medicine, and gently pack it into his gash since it's rather deep. I smear it over the edges as I move from his palm to forearm. "How did this happen?"

"When I killed the guy." Nolan tells me. "The rock I used was sharp all over, and when I hit him in the face with it, it slipped and sliced me pretty good."

As carefully as I can, I rub the medicine over his forearm. "You climbed the cliff like this."

He shrugs. "The cold mostly numbed it. But I'm worried about infection."

It's still nighttime I suppose, although it's hard to know because it was daytime when we left for the arena—the only light is from the lightening, so I can't work very fast. A flash illuminates Nolan's face, and I see he must be a year younger. Now that I've dressed the wound with medicine, it's time to start stitching him up. Next to him, Diana's put her pack beneath her head, and has lain down to sleep. Joln is watching us, but I can see his eyes dropping with exhaustion.

I breathe in again, and exhale sharply through my mouth. "Ready?"

"Ready." Nolan replies. "Just breathe, take your time, and you'll be fine." He breathes in and calmly begins telling me what to do. As I insert the needle and pull the thread through Nolan's flesh, he also talks about other things to keep my mind from obsessing. "I saw your reaping and interview with Caesar. So if you didn't know that girl, why did you volunteer?"

Very slowly, I pull the thread little by little so I don't tear Nolan's skin. "I had a lot going on in my head."

Nolan looks at me, and then at his arm. "Good, you got it through both adjacent sides. Make a lose knot, and then tighten it as much as you can without tearing my skin or breaking the thread." I begin to do that, and as I tug on his skin, I begin to feel sick. Thankfully, Nolan tries to distract me. "Back home, I was trying to be a doctor or something. Not that we have official doctors. More of healers."

"What made you decide you wanted to be a doctor?" I ask, and I begin to repeat the steps for his next stitch.

"My father died in a mining accident about a year ago. There was nothing we could do for those who were with him, but some people died from the injuries of being near the explosion. I think they could have been saved if they'd received proper medical treatment. And I wanted to be that person." Nolan tells me.

I wait for a flash of lightening before pulling the needle through the next adjacent skin. "Well if you win, you can still pursue that."

Unexpectedly, Nolan gives a bitter laugh and shakes his head. "I just killed someone. That goes against every instinct of healing. I'm not supposed to be a doctor, I guess. Not after this."

"You would still be doing good for people though. That matters." I try to emphasize.

"You'll understand when you make your first kill." Nolan now sadly says. "But I hope it never comes to that."

I'm not sure if I have it in me to kill someone. I look at Nolan's grey eyes. "Me too."

* * *

_Boom._

My eyes snap open, and I instantly sit up. The other three are up as well, and all of us are nervously glancing around quietly listening for any sounds that would indicate another tribute is nearby. We wait several minutes, but nobody comes. Finally Nolan comments. "I think we're in the clear."

I rub my eyes and catch sight of my palm. Only a light patch of skin is the evidence that I'd been injured there. "Let me see your arm."

Nolan and I stare at it in amazement. It's a thin line, still opened, but most of the surrounding tissue has fully repaired. Joln and Diana begin checking their cuts too, and we all find that the medicine has almost fixed us overnight. We laugh at this good news, and everyone seems to be in a better mood. Now that it's fairly lit, we come out from the thicket and stretch our aching limbs. I stand next to Joln and pull my arms behind me. A few of my bones shift and something _pops_, but it's in the good way.

"How are you doing?" Joln asks.

I think of the people who I saw get killed or who were killed: rock to face, neck broken, insides spilling, rib collapse, lying there, head exploding. It's been a very gruesome twenty-four hours. I've been sprayed with a tribute's blood and stitched another tribute's gaping wound. We've climbed a cliff and skinned ourselves bloody doing so. Finnick isn't here.

"Alright, I guess." I finally say. The air is getting humid, and I feel extremely exhausted still. "How about you? I'm here to talk if you need me."

Joln rotates his neck cracking a few things. "I did what I had to. I'm sure I'll feel worse later."

I want to reach out and place my hand on Joln's arm to show my support, but I can't with our history. Thankfully Nolan announces, "We should look for food. There's only enough in the pack to last us all a day or so. And I'm not going to the Cornucopia. The Careers will be picking off the tributes who check it out."

"I'll go with Joln." Diana says. "Annie, you go with Nolan. You're the only one who really knows how to keep an eye on his wound."

Joln shakes his head. "No way. His gash is practically a scratch now. I'll stick with my district partner."

Diana angrily spats. "I thought we were allies."

"You're trying to split us apart." Joln accuses.

"You're accusing of us being cold blooded murderers?" Nolan throws back.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Joln takes a step forward.

I run between everyone and yell. "Stop it!" I look at everyone. "We're supposed to be allies! We need to trust each other!"

Joln scoffs. "Annie, stop being so naïve."

"I'm with her." Nolan suddenly says. "We need to trust each other. Or our alliance won't work otherwise." He takes out a small knife, flips it in his hand, catches it by the blade, and holds the handle out to me. "Proof that we mean no harm by suggesting we split up. But I've seen wounds smaller than this get infected. And if anything happens, like if it tears open more, she'll know how to treat it. It's simply a safety precaution."

In a low voice, Joln grits his teeth. "Annie…"

I look at Joln. "I trust him. So should you."

There's a moment of hurt, and it quickly morphs into that familiar anger. "Fine. Do whatever you want." He almost barks at Diana. "Let's go. We'll meet back here in a few hours."

As they walk away, Diana looks back and gives Nolan a look. He gives an empathetic expression as Diana shakes her head and faces forward again. Then he turns to me. "Thank you. For diffusing the situation. Your partner has quite a temper."

"Yes he does." I say a bit sadly. "He always has."

"You knew him before?" Nolan asks.

Panem doesn't need to know the truth. "We were old friends. We just grew apart."

We walk through some trees and pass various bushes. Small patches of grass begin to cover the ground and the scene quickly becomes rather beautiful. Both Nolan and I are in a slight amount of awe, he more so than I. He seems captivated, and has forgotten we're supposed to be looking for food. Every time there's a new plant, Nolan stops to observe it, gently running his fingers over the plant's leaves or blossoming buds.

I look around at the tall trees, and quietly ask. "What's it like in Twelve?"

Nolan straightens his back and steps away from the orange and pink flowers dotting a bush. "Grey, dusty, lots of rocks. Similar to the crater. Very little vegetation within Twelve. There's a forest just beyond the electrical fence that surrounds us, but we're prohibited from entering there. I've never been in the middle of nature like this."

"I never realized how different our districts were. I wonder how the other districts are."

"We'll find out if we become victor." Nolan's face falls. "I mean, well…that's the truth."

He's right. We can act like friends now, but there is only one victor and that will never change in the Hunger Games. But I like Nolan, he seems like a genuinely nice guy. And no matter our district, we are still people of Panem. As the numbers start to dwindle, I'll leave with Joln. I don't have it in me to watch Nolan or Diana die.

I give Nolan an understanding smile. "If you win, be the best doctor in all of the districts."

Nolan sadly returns my smile. "If you win, keep on fighting."

It's like he can see how fragile I am, and every bit of encouragement is exactly what I need. I nod, and Nolan nods, and it's like we've just agreed to what the other person has said. A silent promise between different district tributes. We really aren't so different. Dreams, desires, ambitions—they're all the same. Everyone has them.

A twig _snaps_, and a boy is suddenly running through the trees straight at us. His dark brown skin is covered in blood and I see a nasty wound on the side of his head above his left ear. There's a wild look in his eyes, and it's the fear I see in fish who've been left on the docks by cruel children. His lips are bloodied and chap. He must be dehydrated and starving. The same cuts are on his palms and shins.

He looks like a scared child, but the sword in his hand is anything but innocent. It's coated in blood, and I wonder if he's the one who left the body we passed while we ran towards the cliffs. The roar coming from his mouth is drowned out by my scream, and Nolan is yelling at me to run away. Instead, I run to Nolan and press the small knife into his hand. It's not much, but it's all we have.

With one deft throw, Nolan's buried the knife into the boy's chest and the boy looks down in shock. Nolan rips the sword from his hand, and slashes down in a powerful blow of warm blood. The boy falls backwards, the same way as the other boy during the bloodbath, and his insides spill onto the floor. All his organs and intestines are just lying there. And the smell. I've never smelt so much blood. I don't realize I'm crying and screaming until Nolan has his arms around me as I sink to ground.

_Boom._

I let out another scream and begin to struggle in Nolan's arms. We're covered in the boy's blood, and I want it to all be gone! His blood is covering my arms and hands, and I can smell it Nolan's shirt. But Nolan tightens his grip because he knows I'll take off running, and he quietly whispers. "It was almost painless for him Annie. It was better this way. The wound on his head looked really infected, it may be something in the arena which made it progress that much, but he probably had blood poisoning from whatever his infection was. It would have been a slow and painful death."

Nolan stiffens for a moment, and I can feel fear. I ask through my sobs. "What is it?"

"Nothing." Nolan breathes. "It's never a good feeling knowing I killed someone." He gives me a squeeze, and helps me to my feet. "We should get out of here before they pick up his body." Nolan looks at me one more time, making sure I won't bolt, and he goes over to the boy's body taking the pack lying on the ground just out of the reach of blood. Very quietly he whispers. "I am so sorry."

I'm about to wipe the tears away when I lift my hand and see blood again. I give another cry of horror, and Nolan grabs my arms and pushes them out of my eyesight. "Annie, just look forward. Don't raise your arms or look down at your clothes. Don't look at me. We'll wash it off when we can. Keep your eyes on nothing."

I see blood on Nolan's face, but there's none on his grey eyes. Focus on nothing. I nod and turn away from him keeping my eyes forward, never focusing on anything for too long. We walk side by side in silence; me trying to fight the hysteria, Nolan trying to fight the guilt. He's dead. He's dead. All his organs spilled to the ground. Everything inside of him! Who knew there was so much in our bodies! It all came out!

And then I'm screaming and running. My insides feel like they're shaking and maybe they'll come spilling out onto the ground and all my blood will come gushing out. It's all death! I scream and scream and scream, running towards somewhere, and I just can't stop screaming. It was so terrible! I could see _everything_ that was inside of him! And I handed Nolan the knife. It hits me, I was an accessory to murder! I scream even louder and my throat feels raw.

I slam into somebody, and I begin shrieking because they're going to cut me open and I'll see my insides fall from my body onto the ground. I'm screaming and thrashing around to break free so I can keep my insides inside of me where they belong. You can't cut me open! No! No! No!

"Annie! It's me! It's me!" Someone says as they hold my face in their hands. And I see sea green eyes.

"Finnick?" I gasp.

The eyes fill with hurt, but they hold me closer, and I press my cheek to their chest. "It's Joln."

Joln. Right. Finnick isn't here. He's somewhere safe. He and Kenin are watching us from the mentor room. They're safe. Safe. What a stupid and silly word. I begin to laugh because I understand how ridiculous the notion of safe is. None of us are safe. How could you ever be safe having survived this? And it's so incredibly hilarious that we would be so naïve. It's so funny. Maniacal laughs take over me, and I can't stop laughing as I think about how stupid we all must really be.

Voices filter through my fit of hysteria. "What happened?"

"Ledger, from Eleven, he tried to attack us. I killed him with a sword." I let out a scream upon hearing this.

"Keep her quiet." A girl hisses. "She'll alert other tributes who may be around."

"I'm trying." Someone else whispers. "Annie," they stroke my blood soaked hair, and I begin to cry, "Annie, I'm here. Please, you need to be quiet. I'm right here."

I cry into their chest to smother my sobs, and I am so happy there's no blood soaking their shirt. They're warm and clean and familiar. But they're not him. He's not here. He's there. And I only want him. I can't stop myself, I've lost control, and I quietly whisper. "Finnick, where are you? Where are you?"

"Finnick?" Someone asks. "That's your mentor."

The person holding me nods. "It is. They were good friends in Four. He knew her parents when they died."

It's a lie. A complete and utter lie. But I guess the Capitol wouldn't be so inclined to help us if they knew Finnick and I were lovers. Were. Never to be are again. Because look at me. Look at me! There's no way I am coming out of this alive. I will die in this arena and my body will rot as they hold it in the Capitol. Maybe my corpse will be sent back to Four, but what good will that be? I'll be dead and it won't matter. I will never see my beloved Finnick again.

There's a small beeping and the person holding me leans over to grab whatever it is that's beeping. They quietly say to me, "Annie, it's a parachute from Kenin and Finnick."

This stabilizes me. A bit. More than what I was. I manage to pull myself upright, and take the parachute from Joln's outstretched arms. It's probably for all of us, but I want to be alone for now while I look at what's inside. I move away from the group and crouch next to a tree. There's blood on my fingers and I want to start screaming, but the thought of what Finnick and Kenin have sent me keeps me going. With trembling fingers, I undo the clasp and look inside.

_I'm right here Annie. We both are. We are here for you, and you must not give up. I love you with all my heart. Please keep fighting. I love you. –F & K_

I stuff the note into my jacket pocket, and bring the parachute back over to Joln and our allies. I take out the bag of frozen fruits, and open it so we can all take some. In my palm is a raspberry, blueberry, and cherry. Before I begin eating them in order, I quietly comment. "Sour is still better."


	33. Chapter 33: 70th HG part 2

**Chapter Thirty-Three: 70****th**** Hunger Games Part 2**

_Annie POV_

It's raining again. Big, cold droplets. Two more cannons have sounded since yesterday. A girl from Eleven, and a girl from Eight. Eleven people are dead. Thirteen are left. Soon to be twelve. It's cold out here. In the rain. It's really cold. But I can't move away.

Raindrops batter my face as I stand out here away from the comfort of the thicket. You can't see more than fifteen feet in front of you with the sheets of rain, so I know no one will be out looking for other tributes. Probably. I'm probably right. My hair is drenched along with all my clothes, but it's okay. The water is washing out the blood which has been on me for the past day. We haven't found any freshwater streams, so I had to keep the blood on me. It seems our only source of water will be the rain. The rain which washes the blood away.

There's no thunder or lightening. Only thick grey clouds which allow just enough light so we can sort of see. The trees around us seem to loom over in either protection or menace. They stand tall and silent having witnessed the horrors we have. It's all too much. I just want this to end.

Joln puts a hand on my shoulder. "Annie, you should come and say goodbye. He doesn't have much longer."

I stiffen and bite my lip. He was so healthy yesterday. This arena is more deadly than we suspect. I also let the rain wash away my tears. "Why aren't you doing anything?"

Joln sighs, and goes back under the thicket. He knows I'm not talking to him. There's only one person I really want to talk to. A parachute arrives and I weakly grab it from the air. I open it and the note quickly becomes soaked by the water. _There's no antibiotics for the infection he has. I'm sorry. I love you. –F & K _It's a waste of resources, I know, but this is the only way I can talk with Finnick. Every time he sends a note, he has to send something. And it's wasting resources which would be better spent on something else. But I need this, so I take the note and put it in my pocket.

Inside the parachute there are two drop biscuits from Twelve. Are these from Haymitch, or Finnick and Kenin? In the past three days, Haymitch has sent his tributes nothing. Maybe he's pooling his money together with Finnick and Kenin, but I don't know. I would think he would at least leave some kind of signature.

I close the parachute so the biscuits don't get more wet, and I make my way beneath the thicket. Diana is sitting next to Nolan who is shaking and dying. His skin is pale and sickly, and the long cut on his right arm is badly infected. Whatever infection the boy from Eleven had, entered Nolan's bloodstream when we were sprayed with blood, and has been killing him since.

Very faintly, Nolan smiles at me as I take a seat next to him. "You look terrible."

I smile and laugh because I'm sure I do. I haven't slept and have been standing in the rain for hours. "You're one to talk."

Diana is holding Nolan's hand as tears stream down her face. "You're going to be fine. Look, Annie has a parachute. There's medicine in there, right? Right?"

"I'm sorry." I tell her as I shake my head.

"Damnit Haymitch!" Diana screams. "You are our mentor! Do something! Why haven't you been helping us at all!" She begins to sob into her and Nolan's hand. "Why aren't you doing anything?"

Joln takes a seat beside me, and presses his knee to mine. I breathe in and open the parachute holding it out to Nolan and Diana. "Haymitch sent this. I thought it was for us, but it's for the both of you. It's Twelve's bread, right?" Diana nods surprised. "I'm sure Haymitch would have sent medicine if there was anything for this. But there isn't, so I think he sent this as his condolences."

Diana takes the biscuits, and breaks off a piece for Nolan. He feebly opens his mouth and painfully chews, but there's a content expression on his face. "A taste of home. I didn't think I would get that again."

"That was thoughtful of him." Diana murmurs. She looks up. "Haymitch, thank you."

They eat in silence, and I'm so exhausted. I put a hand to Nolan's leg, and kiss him on the cheek. "I'm glad we got to meet. I wish you could have been a doctor."

He swallows some of the biscuit, and grins. "And you keep on fighting. You promised."

I nod, give his leg a squeeze, and move away with Joln. I'm not a doctor like how Nolan wanted to be, but even I can tell he's only moments away from death. Better to give him and Diana some privacy since they're from the same district. I lie down on my side, right arm raised above, and I rest my head on my biceps. Joln is in front, watching me to make sure I don't freak out.

_Boom._

Diana lets out a cry, and begins to sob. My eyes close as tears spill out, and Joln puts a hand to my shoulder. "I need to move his body. Or they'll tear apart this place when they come to retrieve it." I keep my eyes squeezed shut, and Joln leaves.

The next day we leave the thicket because it's too haunted with the memories of Nolan. Diana weeps silently, and I stay next to Joln who leads the way. We have enough water and food, so we just wander around. We pass a thick concrete wall with water at its base, so Joln and I know it's a dam. A few tributes are at the top, no doubt claiming it as their source of freshwater. About a mile from there we find the scattered remains of a fire someone must have built. There doesn't seem to be much going on. Which is highly unusual for a game because there are usually mutts or game simulations meant for the sole purpose of killing tributes. For some reason, these games are quiet.

In the afternoon, the three of us are eating a meal of meat, crackers, and cheese, sent to us by Finnick and Kenin, when we're suddenly surrounded by Careers. They must have used the shrubbery to their advantage. Emerald is holding a long sword still coated in the blood of tributes she killed, Shiner has a bloody mace, Stephen has a machete, and Feria is holding a blowtorch. The three of us are standing back to back with only a small knife between us.

An awful sound of the blowtorch hissing fills the air as Feria presses the button. "Remember me Four, I told you I would come for you."

My body crawls as the blowtorch hisses to a stop, but starts up again. You can hear the burning of flesh in those flames. Stephen laughs. "She's been waiting for this. You should see the other tributes she practiced on. It was rather ghastly."

The Careers begin to laugh as if it's a big joke, and Diana attempts to make a break for it. Emerald grabs her by the hair in seconds, and Shiner smashes the mace into Diana's thigh. She lets out a horrific scream as she falls to the ground with her thigh crushed. It's been ripped to shreds, and misshapen as the bone juts out at inhuman angles. A large chuck of her thigh is missing, and the tissue is mangled and jagged. Shiner flicks the mace, and sprays the ground with bits of flesh and blood.

I begin to throw up making the Careers laugh even harder. Feria raises the blowtorch, and intensifies the flame. "This is going to be _so_ much fun."

As the Careers chuckle, I notice blackbirds flock into the trees surrounding us. There's a few, then several, then dozens, then hundreds. The blackbirds are mainly focused on Diana who is screaming on the ground, and they tilt their heads from one side to the other. When Stephen playfully swings his machete, the birds nervously flutter in place, and seem to become agitated. Shiner flicks his mace again, and the birds anxiously begin opening and closing their beaks. But they don't chirp. They're waiting for something.

I'm on all fours throwing up the last bit of food and water I have in me, and I wrap my fingers around a rock. It's not big, about the size of a cherry, but I have to hope it'll be enough. Very unsteadily, I get to my feet, and hold onto Joln. There's dread on his face, and utter helplessness. The Careers take a step forward, and the birds flap their wings in excitement since they're stepping away from Diana. And I realize what the birds want. It's a cruel sacrifice, and it may not work, but there's nothing else for us to do.

I throw the rock at the birds, the Careers laugh because they think not only did I miss but that I was trying to defend us with a rock, and then the rock flies into the crowd of blackbirds. A shrill cry of hundreds of blackbirds screaming rings through the air, and they all spread their wings as they descend. It's a flurry of viciously snapping black feathers and claws as they begin to tear at Diana and everyone here. Most of the Careers cover their faces and swing around trying to knock the birds out of the air, but as Joln and I run, Stephen grabs me by the hair and yanks me back.

I fall to the grass just as Joln tackles Stephen and they go tumbling to the ground a few yards away. Because we're the furthest from Diana, the blackbirds are less in number here, and the other Careers fall a cloud of feathers. I get to my feet and see Joln on top of Stephen, pinning him down. "Annie, go! Go! Run!"

My mouth is open, and I try to scream, that no, I won't leave him. Knock out Stephen and come with me.

All these screams are perched on my lip when there's a flash of steel, and Joln's head detaches from his body. I watch it fall to the ground—mouth open in a horrifying gape about to scream soundless words at me. Eyes staring unseeing as his head rolls over the grass leaving a bloody trail of spewing blood. Joln's body is over Stephen, grabbing his arms, and I see the vertebrae which had been attaching his head to his body. Blood is gushing out, and as Stephen pushes Joln's body over, it falls to the ground, tense and rigid. The boy I knew and his body have become an it. The body is not Joln, but neither is his head. Joln has been separated into two so that he's no longer a person.

Blood and bones and lifeless eyes. Joln is dead!

I let out a scream and begin running away with the images of Joln's beheading burned into my eyes. The Careers are shouting behind me, giving chase, and I don't stop screaming allowing them to easily track me. As I scream and scream and scream, they laugh and shout, yelling taunts. Did I see the way his head rolled across the floor? Did I see the way his head detached and all the bone beneath was revealed? Did I see it? Did I see it? Did I see it? I keep on screaming as I run through the wilderness, and when I hear two cannon _booms_, I scream even louder and keep on running.

I scream as I run past a startled tribute, and I run past him into the maze of trees ahead. The screaming never ends, and another cannon _booms_, and I scream even more. Finally all the screams for a lifetime must get used up because I begin screaming soundless screams and screaming out dry air. My throat is raw and my mouth still ajar, as I silently scream until I collapse on the floor. I lie here for a moment, head spinning, muscles aching, mind scarred, and I somehow find the strength to crawl into a bush next to a tree. The tree has a small hole in it, so I crawl inside there, and lay down.

It's cramped and dirty and Joln is dead. His head was there, and then it fell off. One moment it was attached, then next, there was nothing but blood and bone. Tears drip out of my eyes, and I look at the world from a sideway perspective. A few minutes later, the Careers run past my bush and tree, shouting at each other that I must be somewhere up ahead. They're looking for me. They want to burn me. Or cut off my head. They want me dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Joln is dead. He is dead. Without his head. Joln is dead. Dead.

I am dead.

Alive, but dead.

With my head.

But still dead.

* * *

No booms for today. Day. Night. It's day. The sun is shining. The false sun. The lying, deceiving sun. It shines. I haven't moved from the tree. To the one I love, who is not here, so maybe he's not real, to the world then, but this isn't the world, so to possibly nothing, I whisper. "What day is it? I'll never know. Time is false. Day is false. The lies are true. But the truth are lies. Creeping, falling, lying."

Beep, beep, beep. I giggle. Does silence beep?

Then I see a parachute. That's proof of the real world, right? Very painfully, I crawl out of the hole and stretch my stiff muscles. I grab the parachute, and retreat back into my hiding. Away from the lies. Inside my safety, I open the parachute. Four fish shaped rolls tinted green is what I receive. I turn them over in my hand, but do not eat. If I eat, that means I'm trying to survive. Am I trying to survive? Do I want to survive? A little piece of heaven is inside with the bread.

_Please keep fighting. I can't live without you. Hold on for just a little bit longer. I love you. I love you. I love you. Don't give up. You promised. –F & K_

Promises. So many promises made. So many people who cared about my survival. Joln did. Was. He did. He's gone. Beheaded. I watched his head fall from his body! I saw his blood pour out! I saw the bone! He's dead! Oh, the way the white was covered in red and the flesh which should have been whole but was cut all the way through until his head came off!

I begin to weep and I cover my ears with my cupped hands. I weep, weep, weep, soothed by the sound of the false ocean. It's all false, but it's the closest to home. Because the closest to home here is gone, taken, gone, beheaded and dead. Why doesn't this end? No more booms means the longer I'll be here. Unless it's my boom. But I promised. I promised…

The most fight I have in me is to lie here until it's over. That's all the fight I can give. It'll have to be enough because there's nothing else I can give aside from giving up. But I promised. So I lie here. I lie here. Staring. Forty-seven green leaves, or was it forty-six, maybe fifty-three. Numbers. Four pieces of bread. What day is it? Day four. Be ready on day five. One more day. One more. I don't know if I can hold on longer than that. If nothing happens, I have nothing else to live for. This will never end if I have to wait longer than day five.

Finnick.

I have Finnick to live for. How fair will my survival be for him though? I'm broken. Destroyed. Crippled. Damaged. Useless. I'm not the same person he fell in love with. Is it fair for him if I come back to him the way I am? He won't be able to fix me. I will never be the same. Will he still be able to love me? I don't love me. I hate me. Joln is dead because of me. Diana is dead because of me. Nolan is dead because of me. That boy tribute is dead because of me. So many because of me's. Finnick could love a murderer?

_You're not a murderer. Besides, Finnick killed tributes in his game._

"Who said that?" I ask below a whisper.

_I told you, you don't get to give up. I'm here for you._

"Joln?"

_Hey Annie._

"Where are you? They cut off your head. You're dead. I saw you die. I watched you die. I killed you.""

_No Annie! _He angrily says in that familiar tone. _Of course I'm angry. You don't get to think like that. My death is not your fault. We were in the Hunger Games. Only one enemy is responsible._

"Enemy?"

He sighs. _That's not the point. You need to get through this. You need to live._

"I can't." I softly cry.

_Finnick needs you. He loves you. Without you, he can't live. Not if you die._

"I love him too. But I can't. I don't think I can."

_You have to. It's the only way he can live._

"How do you know?"

_He's barely holding it together Annie. Watching you through your game, it's nearly destroyed him. Finnick has been doing everything in his power to keep you alive. He tried his best to keep me alive. You made him promise you that, didn't you? _I nod._ It killed him to make such a promise. Compromising the potential of your survival. He won't be able to live with himself if you die._

I'm so tired of talking. I'd rather think. _Is Finnick real? Or did I make him up to get through this?_

_He's real Annie. Very much so. He loves you a lot. More than I thought. More than I did. He loves you._

I feel the tears drip from my eyes. _It's cruel of me to be talking about this with you._

_Perhaps, but it's the truth. _Joln sighs. _Don't push Finnick away when you survive. He'll love you matter how you turn out. He only wants to be with you. The sane and disturbed._

_Am I crazy?_

_You would be to not be after what you've gone through. Everyone becomes a little crazy after winning. Some more than most._

_I'll be a part of the most?_

_In the beginning. Things will get better._

I grab a bread and place it on the ground outside of the tree. _He sent us these. In case we don't go home. You won't. So this is more for you than me._

_Thank you._

_Your welcome._

Joln looks at the bread, and crosses his legs. _Tell me about Finnick._

_What do you want to know?_

_How did you fall in love with him?_

I sigh because of the guilt. And I'm also happy thinking about him. _Well, it was a lot of things. When I was at Kenin's, Finnick had nightmares. I was there out of surprise and a prank, well, after the prank, Kenin was worried. Then Finnick began walking me home, and it was just a lot of things. He was persistently annoying, and then I began to see the real him. Finnick stopped with the charades, and he helped me. Stabilize. Get a better grasp on reality._

Joln can see my memories and thoughts because he's in my head. He's not real. I know. Ghosts? They're what crazy people see, right? So as I think, Joln can see. He sees two memories and gives a soft cry. _That happened to you? After I stormed out?_

_It wasn't your fault. _

_How could you have stayed with me after that?_

_It wasn't your fault._

_Annie…_

_Joln…_

_Finnick beat him up?_

_Badly. He almost killed Derek._

_Then he heard Emilia?_

_Yeah._

_That makes sense._

_What does?_

_Nothing. _Joln uneasily shifts. _He was always the better guy for you. I just never saw it. _Joln gives another sigh, and he begins to fade. Nothing but sincerity and honesty are in his voice. _Be happy with him._

_No, don't go! Don't go! Joln? Joln!_

"Joln!" I begin to scream. I crawl out of the hole and get to my feet causing pain to shoot throughout my entire body because my muscles are severely cramped and dehydrated. "Joln! Don't go! Where are you!"

And I begin chasing ghosts.

* * *

How many hours have passed? I can't say. I stopped chasing Joln hours ago. He disappeared back into nothingness. After ignoring several parachutes, I finally grab one, and open it. There's a seashell inside. The one I wore during the Opening Ceremonies. Finnick is reminding me of all the other seashells he's given me. The ones I lost and stomped on.

I hold up my arm and watch the bracelet slide down my wrist. My token from home. Made by Finnick. I look at the bracelet and whisper. "I love you."

Then I take out the note.

_Trust me, okay. Head to the Cornucopia. Give the cameras a nod after you read this, and once you get down into the crater, be ready. I love you. –F & K_

I tuck the note into my pocket, and look up at the false sky. I nod several times just in case, and begin to run. Fear of being caught by other tributes takes over my mind, but Finnick asked me to trust him, so I will. I duck whenever I hear strange noises, hide in the bushes at the sound of voices, and before I know it, I'm standing on the edge of the cliff. Close to where it all began. Aren't the tributes usually herded towards the Cornucopia when the games come to an end? This means the games are coming to an end!

Very carefully, I begin my descent. Hold onto this rock, don't step there, step there, easy now, don't grab that rock, keep going. My arms begin to shake as my muscles fight the burning sensation of strain, and I grit my teeth through the various cuts I receive. Bloody fingers grab for this rock, and that rock, and then this rock. My head begins to spin, and I know I should have drank some water when I had the chance.

Finally, my feet touch the ground and I crumple from the exhaustion. It seems impossible I made it down, and I know going back up is impossible. For whatever reason, I am meant to stay down here. Finnick must know that if I need to climb the cliff again, I won't be able to. Where it began is always where it ends.

There don't seem to be any other tributes down here, so I think I'll lie here for a bit. That's when I feel it. The ground begins to shake, and several rocks come tumbling down. I roll away as some of them land where I was moments ago. I get to my feet and run towards the Cornucopia, and a couple hundred yards later, when I turn back, the ground begins to tremble and I'm thrown down. It feels as if the entire earth is moving in waves and bouncing up and down, and there's nothing for me to hold onto.

A great _crack_ tears through the air and somewhere a thousand tons of rocks fall. The ground hasn't stopped moving, and huge slabs of stone fall from the cliffs and smash into the rocks below. As I press my hands into the rocks beneath me, I hear: _Boom, Boom, Boom. _Whatever is happening, three tributes have been killed. Finally, the ground gives one last shudder before becoming still again.

Unsteadily, I stand up again. Aside from this massive earthquake, nothing else has changed. Behind me. "Look, there she is!"

I spin around and see the Careers at the Cornucopia's mouth. Stephen is holding his machete, and something else. It's round and sends chills down my spine. Some new weapon? He laughs as Emerald calls out. "You're dead now! Like your partner!"

They're five, maybe six hundred feet away, but their voices carry across this deserted land. These words squeeze my chest, and I fight the urge to cover my ears. All the Careers begin to approach me, and I watch their feet step over the rock littered floor. The black rocks which cut you open if you fall. It's hard to see the ground beneath the rocks, but it appears to be a grey soil. Why am I focused on this when four bloodthirsty souls approach?

I look up again, and Feria waves around the blowtorch. I can see the blue and orange flames. "You shouldn't have come here! You should have gone on hiding and sniffling!"

_Finnick, why, why would you send me here to the Careers? Did you decide it'd be better for me to die in the games?_

"No one's going to save you now!" Shiner yells. They're three hundred feet away. "You're all alone! No one to sacrifice their life for you!"

"Did you see the way I cut off his head!" Emerald grabs the round thing from Stephen's hand and holds the object in the sunlight. Then I realize what they're holding. Joln's decapitated head.

I let out a piercing scream/cry of anguish and fall to my knees—head held between my hands. I shake my head as I scream. "Noo! No! No!"

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Feria shrieks and I can hear her through my hands. "He's dead! We killed him! This is his head!"

Something _thuds_ several yards in front of me, and I look up against my insane better judgment. Joln's head is rotted and bloody lying face down. When the smell hits me, I lose it. It's the final thing that makes my mind snap. It's like, I can actually feel it being stretched beyond its limit, and then suddenly give out. I've been insane before, but not like this.

I'm running away again and screaming, but not screams of panic or fear. Screams of having just lost your mind. The Careers are running after me again, and I flail my limbs as I scream and run away towards nothing. They suddenly stop giving chase, and I hear someone shout. "What is that!"

"Run!"

They run somewhere else, as I keep running forward, and when I inhale to scream again, I'm painfully swept off my feet in a flood of water. As I'm battered across the ground, it feels like every piece of my body is scraped away by the rocks beneath. _Boom. _Am I dead? No. I wouldn't feel the pain if I was. The water has risen above me, and I'm still being sloshed around at the bottom as the currents push on. Each change in direction forces another gasp of air from my lungs, and I can feel the suffocation pressing in on me.

I struggle to the surface, and I don't think I'll make it as I'm pushed around by the current, but finally my head breaks through the top and I inhale a lungful of pure oxygen. I cough and gasp trying to spit out the water I've swallowed, and my vision goes black for a few seconds. I'm about to pass out, or so I think, but eventually the world lightens and I can see again. The entire crater has been flooded and water pours in from every side. It looks like an ocean is spilling into here, and I realize why Finnick told me to head to the Cornucopia.

The dam has broke, and anyone outside of the crater would have been swept away with the flood and been battered against trees or rocks until they died, or they would have been swept over the edge to their death. I'm thrashing around in the water and screaming because it's everywhere, and I don't want to drown! I can't drown! Not like them! Through my screams of panic, a thought pierces my mind. Surely the gamemakers hadn't intended to end the games with something so simple as a dam breaking. Surely they would have wanted a bloodbath like in all the other Hunger Games. So why break the dam? Why kill the remaining tributes through having them drown? Most don't know how to swim, and none of us were given flotation devices. The only tributes expected to have swimming skills are tributes from Four. And what is the death I fear most? Aside from beheadings. It's drowning. Finnick knows this. He knows I would never let myself drown. But he wasn't sure if I'd keep fighting.

This is Finnick's way of ensuring my survival.

And it's cruel of him. Because he's not here to hold me. And because he's forced me into the terrors of being surrounded by water. I sob as I tread to stay afloat. And I sob because he's done this to me. I scream at the top of my lungs. "How could you! How could _you_ of all people!"

Water rushes into my mouth, and I choke which makes me panic even more. I thrash around and look to the Cornucopia. The Careers are on top, but the water is rising quickly. Soon, they'll have to learn how to swim or tread quickly, or they'll drown. Stephen is gripping his machete and looking over the Cornucopia's edge. In seconds the water has risen a few inches. Shiner and Emerald are on both of Stephen's sides, looking over too. He slowly gets up, looks at Feria, and strikes her down. Before Shiner and Emerald can turn around, Stephen decapitates Shiner, then stabs Emerald through the back. With little effort, he pushes her over the edge.

_Boom. Boom. Boom._

I scream and swim away putting as much distance between myself and Stephen. I'm near the cliffs, but far enough that I won't be put under by the rushing water that is still flowing over the edge. When I look back at the Cornucopia, I see that Stephen is standing knee deep in water. He's looking around with a panicked expression, and then he looks at me. Hatred fills his face because he knows I'm from Four.

"I've carried your partner's head around for the past few days!" Stephen shouts and a strangled cry erupts from my throat. "The birds pecked away his flesh until there was nothing but bones left. His bloody ribs and spine! You should have seen it! The chunks of meat and all the blood!" Stephen laughs. "But I saved his head! What was left of it from the birds anyway!" The water has risen to his waist. "It's in here somewhere! His head! It's in the water somewhere!"

I can't stop crying and screaming, and I know what he's doing. Each sob drains me of the will to live, and I feel myself being pulled under. I struggle to keep my head above water, and more of it begins to fill my mouth which I have to continuously spit back out. How much longer until the water rises so Stephen drowns? I gasp. Did I just wish for someone else to drown?

The water has risen to Stephen's chest, and he's attempting to tread the water. "His head is in here! Each time you swallow water, you're swallowing a little bit of him!" I hear him cough and sputter. "Emerald cut off his head! He's dead! There was nothing but blood and bones left!" Stephen begins to panic, and I can't stop sobbing. All I want to do is to cover my ears with my hands, but that would send me down into the depths of the water.

Something is splashing near me, and I look around. Stephen is clumsily swimming towards me, and I can see the determination on his face. His arms sloppily, but effectively thrash one over the other, slowly pulling him towards me. I sob and begin to swim away letting the water glide past me as I swim in the other direction. Stephen yells in frustration, and he tries to undo me with more taunts. "The birds had pecked out his eyes!"

What Stephen doesn't know is that while Joln's beheading has made my mind break, drowning is a strong enough fear that I won't succumb to a broken mind. Because in a broken mind, the fear is the worst. I keep my head down despite the panic, and continue my strokes until his voice fades. I've outswam him, he's far behind. He can't catch me.

_Boom._

I stop swimming. It's over. I've won. Everyone is dead. Everyone. Joln.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give—"

Claudius' voice fades above. It's muffled by the water. The water surrounds me. No, I haven't sunk. I'm lying on my back with my face to the sky. I'm so tired. Now that it's over, I only have energy for one thing. And that's to lie here.

* * *

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

hope you enjoyed


	34. Chapter 34: Broken, Broken, Broken

**okay, well my break is over, so i tried to get out as many chapters as possible, i pretty much just sat and wrote, but i enjoyed it all, but now that its back to hitting the book, my updates will be less timely. thanks for reading, and ill try to update as much as possible still. thank you for sticking with my story this far.**

**enjoy**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Four: Broken, Broken, Broken**

_Annie POV_

"Mr. Odair, I held up my end of the deal."

Finnick's hand strokes my hair. Through gritted teeth, he hisses. "No. You should have ended the games on the second day. I told you she couldn't make it to day five."

"Yet here she is. Perfectly fine and alive." Snow slowly says. "We agreed on day five. There has never been a shorter Hunger Games than this one. And the people are not happy with it either. Many of them are complaining about the game's short duration, not to mention weak and pitiful ending. Do you really think anyone wants to watch tributes drown or get killed in a few swift blows? That's what the initial bloodbath is for."

"I don't care what the people think." Finnick spats.

Snow bitterly chuckles. "Oh you should Mr. Odair. Because the people will be thirsting for blood, and next year's Hunger Games will be extremely brutal and violent. I will see to that. To make up for, letting this one live. Know, that when next year's tributes die bloody and gory, it will have been your fault. Along with the withdrawal of Four's privileges. You have sacrificed a lot for one."

Finnick angrily says. "I know that."

Footsteps begin to leave the room. "Good. Because from now on, I will be using Miss Cresta to keep you in line. You will come to the Capitol when bidden. And remember, your Capitol visits have been doubled from here on out. You'll be back in a month."

I feel Finnick kiss my forehead. "Annie, please wake up. Please." I open my eyes startling Finnick, and when he recovers, he leans forward embracing me in a hug. "Annie! I'm here. I'm here. I love you."

Finnick kisses my cheek, and leans back waiting for a response. Any response. But I don't have a voice. The screams have stolen my vocal chords. I left them in the arena along with my mind. No words in the world can convey what I want to say. There's nothing to say. I wouldn't know where to begin. I love you too? I do. I really do. But you, Finnick Odair, used my fear against me. A fear I told you in secret. One I felt when I clung onto you for safety. You were supposed to keep me safe. And by flooding the arena, you didn't keep me safe. You kept me alive. Not safe. There's a difference.

"Annie?" Worry fills his voice.

I stare into Finnick's eyes, and I'm so glad he's near me. It makes me so happy to see his face again. But I am also so hurt and angry. All I feel is pain. Joln wanted me to be happy with you. I am happy with you. But happy is not something I want to feel. So I stare into Finnick's eyes, and then turn away.

* * *

Kenin puts his hands on my hospital bed, and tentatively reaches for my hands. When I don't pull away—as I've done with Finnick—he takes this as a sign to proceed. It's truly wonderful to feel the warmth of his fingers envelop mine. My hands feel cold and dead. Like the rest of me. The only warmth can come from other people. But one of them is dead. One of them betrayed me. Two of them are back in Four. One is here.

As I stare at our hands, Kenin scoots his chair closer and brings his face into view. "Annie…" I raise my eyes to stare into his. He must see the pain and despair. Doesn't anyone know there's nothing they can say to make me better? Kenin does. He exhales slowly, and squeezes my hand. "Yurol and Joa will be waiting for our return in Four."

Yes. That's right. The rest of my family. They're waiting for me.

I lower my eyes, and sink my head further into the pillow.

* * *

Finnick sits at my bedside. Hands kept to himself because I won't let him touch me. And I love him. I really do. But I am so angry he would resort to having me drown as a means of making me fight. After everything I went through in the arena—all the death, Joln's beheading—how could he subject me to that? He loves me. I know. But was it worth it?

I want him to stay though. Because whenever he's near, I can think clearly. When he goes. My mind goes with him. They say my body is healthy. My body. It's perfect and strong. They never mention my mind. Do they not consider that an important factor to being a functional person? If they could see my mind, they would see all the splinters and fragments. How no pieces fit together anymore. It's chaos inside. Except when Finnick is here. He's the glue which makes everything stick together, even if they don't match.

He looks at the clock in the room, and I know he has to leave. There's regret and defeat on his face. Finnick stands up and puts his hands on the bed railing. "I love you Annie. I'll be back as soon as I can."

I reach out for his hand because I am so angry with him. He tries to hide the surprise on his face, and he leans forward as I pull on his hand. Finnick's right hand twitches and I know he could stop me, he could grab my arm and restrain me. But instead he let's my left hand fly up and _slap_ him across the face. I stare at his reddening flesh with anger in my eyes, and Finnick looks down with sorrow. He simply sighs and calmly removes his hand from mine.

"I'll be back as soon as I'm done." Finnick tells me as he walks around the hospital bed. He stops at the exit and softly says. "I love you."

When he leaves, I begin to cry.

* * *

The claws are trying to tear out my eyes and feed them to the endless souls lost in eternity. Their white skin flutters in the air as they run around trying to pin me down. I flail my limbs and try to escape into the comfort of softness. Leave me alone! Why don't they leave me alone! One of them sticks a nail into my flesh and I can feel the poison spreading. It turns my blood to acid so it can dissolve my skin and bones. I'll fall apart into the bed as one big bloody mush.

A wounded cry passes through my tender throat, and I lift my back up and down trying to rip free of their grasp. I kick and throw my arms around trying to get any of them who come too near. I rip out the nail and tear my flesh open in the process. Red begins to flow and it drips all over me. They've gotten me. They're going to infect my blood like Nolan!

They've pinned me down again and I'm paralyzed as they stick me over and over again. Terrified sobs rip through the air because my mouth is my only weapon. So I give piercing screams and wounded cries. They're going to kill me! They're going to eat me! Feed my body to the birds like Joln! The poison spreads to my eyes, and my eyelids begin to melt. They drip down until it's darkness. And then my brain begins to melt. I feel it cave within my skull turning to liquid. It sloshes around and around and around and…

* * *

The man I love awakes me. His burning anger echoes in my room. "Stop sedating her! You're only making it worse!"

"She was getting violent." Someone retorts.

In a threatening tone I've never heard Finnick use, he growls. "Then let her be violent! After everything she went through, she's allowed to be angry! Sedate her again, and I will ruin your career!"

The person scoffs. "You don't have the power to do that. Snow wouldn't allow it."

"I'm not talking about Snow. But gossip spreads like fire in the Capitol, and I see enough of its people that one bad comment about your ability as a doctor—your career will be thrown to the sewers." Finnick finishes. "Now get out!" A pause. "Now!"

The doctor, I assume, storms out of the room. My eyes open slowly and my brain is really foggy. The poison, no, sedation is still in my bloodstream. Most of it has worn off though. Finnick doesn't see I'm awake because he's holding his head in his hands and softly crying. I can hear it in his breathing, and see it in his shaking shoulders. My condition is breaking him as well. All my anger is chipping away at his soul.

Finnick did what he did because he loves me. No other reasons. He did that knowing I would probably never forgive him for it. He was willing to sacrifice my feelings towards him if it meant saving my life and it's because he loves me. I'm not being fair to him. I watch my beautiful boy weep over me, and it seems wrong because I'm alive. I'm here. But I'm not fully here, am I?

There's a heavy exhale as Finnick gathers himself, and he wipes his face before looking up. He sees me watching him, and he really tries to wipe his face. "Oh, hey. I was, uh—" Finnick holds his hands up, and gives a forced smile, "Yeah…"

I need to forgive him. I sit up in my bed despite the discombobulating effects of the sedation, and slowly reach out. Finnick holds still as my hands encircle his face. For the first time in weeks I've touched him. His eyes close as my thumbs wipe away his tears, and I can feel his growing stubble. It's rough and coarse against my skin. A texture I've never felt on Finnick before.

Very gently I press my lips to his because I need some of his warmth. I can't live without him either. Especially not now. I love him too much and he's the one I need to get through this. As I move my lips, Finnick's strain for self-control flows into me. His every desire to move his hands and to hold me becomes a part of what I feel. I press my lips to his, and slowly back away. The shock and joy and pain shine brightly in Finnick's eyes. I'm not sure what shows in mine. All I know is that I love Finnick. All of him.

It's just, I still have nothing to say.

I lean back into my pillow, and turn on my side to stare at the wall.

* * *

I'm screaming again as water drips over my skin soaking the bed. They want to drown me little by little as my lungs slowly fill with water. I grab the bowl and throw it across the room spraying everyone in reach. My fingers claw at their faces and I rake someone's cheek. I can't stop screaming, and when someone pins me down I let out a horrified cry.

They're torturing me. The Careers. They've injected me with some kind of poison and I'm still in the arena. The coldness I feel is actually Feria's blowtorch sizzling my flesh and charring it black. I've escaped to some dark crevice in my mind to escape their torture, but I'm starting to surface back into the game. I didn't actually win. The game is still going on!

A wrenching pain shoots through my arm as I struggle to break free, and my arm _pops_. Now I scream in pain as it twists and mangles every nerve in body. I can't move my arm! It's lying uselessly next to me, and I scream because the Careers have ripped off my arm. I thrash around trying to escape. I try so hard. But I am stuck.

"You dislocated her shoulder." One of the Careers gasp.

"I-I didn't meant to." Another one of them gasps. "She was belligerent. You saw her."

One of them roughly barks. "It doesn't matter. Snow wanted her ready for the interview in the next few days. This is going to set everything back."

I scream and cry tears spilling down my face.

"Make her stop." Somebody orders. "Sedate her."

"You heard Finnick, no more sedation." A Career whines.

The leader yells. "I don't care what Finnick says." They grip my arm and try to shove my amputated arm back in place, I scream in pain, and scream more when it _pops_ back out. "Damnit! She's going to need surgery. Sedate her now!"

Finnick is here to save me. "What have you done to her!" There's some scuffling. "I told you no more sedations!"

Several metallic things _crash_ to the floor. "She needs surgery. We have to!"

"What did you to her!" Finnick screams. "You broke her arm!"

"It's dislocated! We need to get her into surgery now! Move Mr. Odair unless you want her to have permanent damage!" Silence, and then I hear Finnick crying. "Call them and tell them we're coming! Hang a drip of morphling and sedation. I need Dr. Meller in the room when I get there. She needs to be in perfect condition when we're finished."

Through my screams, I see my boy leaning against a wall, hands to his face.

* * *

_Finnick POV_

I'm sitting in Annie's hospital room, waiting for her to get out of surgery. It's been a few hours, and there's no sign of her return. I don't have to look up to know that it's Kenin who _plops_ down into the seat next to me. "What happened?"

I press my hands to my face and shake my head. "They were trying to give her a sponge bath and she freaked out. One of them had her pinned down and she dislocated her shoulder. It wouldn't go back into place, so now she's in surgery."

"Why weren't you with her?" Kenin asks in a non-accusing voice.

"I was with a client." Guilt drips every word.

We've been in the Capitol for a month now which means I was due back for my new cliental. Since I never left, I picked up from the break I had in-between. Kenin quietly asks. "How many days?"

"My stays have been extended to five. This is my last day. I'm finished." I tell him.

"How much longer do you think we'll be here? She hasn't had the interview yet, or been crowned."

I rub my fingers over my eyes. "I don't know. They'll probably send us home soon. They must be tiring of the constant care she requires."

"Are you tiring?" Kenin asks.

Now I look up, and hold his gaze. "I'm going to be there for her every moment. I'm not giving up."

"Good." He quietly says. "That's good." Kenin leans back in his chair and comments. "You look terrible."

I begin to laugh for the first time in over a month. It's more of a chuckle, but it feels good. Kenin tilts his head and looks at me with a grin. Then he begins to laugh, and our laughter fills the room which has too often been filled with cries and sobs. It's really not that funny, but we can't stop laughing because it's something we've both needed for too long. Tears spring into my eyes, and Kenin holds his stomach as we exhale the last of our laughing fit.

After a few shaky breaths, I lean back too. "So, how have you been holding up?"

Kenin looks at me. "She's alive. That's all I wanted." He exhales. "Even if it's like this."

"Me too." I quietly respond.

"Do you remember how hard it was the first few months?" Kenin asks, and I nod. You never forget. You just don't. He shrugs his shoulder. "She's there right now. But it'll get better. She'll be different, but she'll get better. I know she will."

I don't say anything because I would like to hope with Kenin, but I don't know if Annie really will. It's like Yurol said, Annie had the fragility of a fish egg. And now that egg has broke. All the liquid inside has spilled out while the gelatinous shell has collapsed, and no matter what, you can't scoop the liquid up and shove it back inside.

I entwine my fingers—squeezing and pulling at the same time. "You heard her. In the arena. She was talking to Joln."

Kenin sighs. "I know. She started hearing the voices long before her victory. That's uncommon, right?"

"Yeah." I sadly reply. "Well," I think about it, "maybe it's not such a bad sign. I heard one right before my victory."

"You did?" He asks surprised. "Who?"

"Emilia." I release my fingers and grip my knees. "She told me not to give up. That I needed to live."

There's a long pause before Kenin speaks. "I think," he finds his words, "I think I heard Minul. Right before I killed Gerta. I thought it was a feeling, that the only way to go back home was to do what I had to. And it was going to be okay. I would forgive myself one day."

My head rises. "Have you?"

"No. But I am trying." Kenin admits. "The screaming and accusing voices didn't come until after I won. Like my mind knew I couldn't handle it until after I was safe."

I nod. "They'll never leave, you know? They just become quieter."

Kenin suddenly seems a bit hopeful. "Annie, she didn't kill anyone. Maybe she won't hear those voices. And maybe that'll be what enables her to eventually get better."

"Except she saw Joln's beheading." I grimly say.

"Except for that." Kenin sadly agrees.

* * *

_Annie POV_

Little by little the darkness releases me and I am welcomed by the light. Everything feels disoriented, and I slightly tilt my head. Finnick is asleep in the chair in what must be a very uncomfortable position, but Kenin is awake with his eyes on me. He glances at Finnick before picking up the chair and setting it beside my bed. Dark circles invade the skin beneath Kenin's eyes, and I know he's been worried sick for me.

"Hey." He quietly says in a hushed voice so as to not disturb Finnick.

I blink at him.

Kenin places his hand on the bed giving me the option of taking it, or leaving my hands where they are. Tentatively, although I don't know why, I reach out and place my left hand in his. Gently, he wraps his fingers around mine. "Annie," he breathes in, "I am so sorry for what happened to Joln."

Tears fill my eyes, but I don't scream.

This assures Kenin and he sadly says. "I know this is hard for you, and I just want you to know—Finnick and I, we're both here for you. Always."

I open my mouth and I know Kenin doesn't expect me to say anything. He squeezes my hand, but then, like a miracle, I speak. "You look tired." My voice is weak, and hoarse, but it's there.

Finnick instantly awakes and he does a strange jumpy movement before really coming to and focusing on me. His eyes are wide in shock, and Kenin can't hide his surprise either. Neither of them move as if they're afraid I'll crumble and fall mute again.

"You look terrible Finnick." I comment in a tiny voice.

Finnick laughs in a loud and disbelieving voice, and he quickly rushes to my bedside, tears streaming down his face. "I'm sure I do." He laughs again.

Kenin bursts out laughing, and I smile at them.

Their joy at my simple task of speaking is overwhelming. New life seems to swim in their eyes. They've been waiting for me this entire time. I squeeze Kenin's hand and turn my eyes to him. "Can I talk to Finnick?"

"Of course. Of course." Kenin happily says wiping away his tears.

As he leaves the room, I tell him. "I love you Kenin."

"I love you too Annie."

Finnick pulls the chair up even more, and leans over the bed. "Hey." The joy is so evident in his voice.

"Hey." I reply back.

"So, how are you feeling?" Finnick eagerly asks with so much happiness.

And this is when I know. This is the moment I know. Finnick loves me. He would do anything for me. He would never leave me. But…I'm not the same person he fell in love with. I fell in love with the boy who'd won the 65th Hunger Games, the boy who killed all those children, the boy who slept with all those girls, the boy who willingly prostituted himself to help others, the boy who brought me those seashells, the boy who fought so desperately to control his bodily urges, the boy who I made love to. That is the boy I fell in love with. But me? I'm not the girl he fell in love with. I'm not the girl who was slightly insane, the girl who waitressed at the Shack and rolled her eyes at his sexual advances, the girl who went to comfort him in the dead of night, the girl who bought him that glass-bottled boat, the girl who kissed him at the bottom of the stairs, the girl who he cooked breakfast for, the girl whose wiped her snot on him repeatedly, the girl who he fell in love with. I am not that girl. I was, but not anymore. She's gone. Taken by the games and destroyed by Joln's beheading. That is who I am.

And he'll think I'm her because I'm still in _her_ body. But he won't see that she is not me. Because he is so in love with her that he'll look past the utter difference between her and me. That is the type of guy Finnick is. So completely good-hearted, he would never let her go over a drastic change. His heart is so pure, and it touches me beyond words that he would love me as much as he loved her. I love him for that. I love him. Her feelings for him will carry over with me. But it's not fair to have him carry over his feelings for her, to me. And because he's such a good guy, he would never let go. He would love me endlessly as he loved her.

Unless I lie and tell him the only thing that would ever make him let go. I inhale slowly and feel my heart break as I break our agreement to not lie to each other. But then again, it's not really my agreement. It was his and hers. What was the agreement? That's right: _Whoever loses, forfeits the right to interact with the other person unless the winner initiates communication_. "I can't forgive you for what happened to Joln. I thought I could, but I can't. I can't stop wondering if there was more you could have done to prevent what happened. Maybe there wasn't, maybe you did do everything you could, but I'll never know. You did get them to flood the arena to save me."

The effect on Finnick's face is instantaneous. He understands what my words mean, if they were true, and I watch pain and sorrow and grief and acceptance and shock wash over his face all at the same time. A cry catches in Finnick's throat as he leans back, and takes a moment to fully absorb what I've said. After this moment, Finnick slowly stands up, head hung so low that it makes me want to reach out and kiss him.

He nods and backs away. "I understand. I…" Finnick calmly breathes in with great pain, "I hope you'll get better and lead the happy life you deserve. I'm so sorry." Without waiting for a reply, Finnick exits the room, unable to handle the lie I've told him.

"Goodbye." I quietly whisper to an empty room.

He won't initiate contact. He's too good of a guy to do that. Too good to beg for forgiveness when he feels it's underserved. I know that. And that's what makes him so good.

* * *

"Do you really hold him accountable?" Kenin quietly asks. "Because that would mean you hold me accountable."

I shake my head. "No. I lied."

"Why?" Kenin incredulously asks.

"The same reason you stayed away from Yurol and Joa."

"You're angry with him?"

"The other reason."

Kenin bites his lower lip and slowly says. "You're not the same person they knew before the game." I nod. Kenin sighs in frustration. "But Annie, Finnick knows that! He's never expected you to be the same. Not once! He'll love you as you are. He does love you as you are!"

I take Kenin's hand, and ask. "Do you really think it's fair for me to put Finnick through this? To have him stay with me out of the obligation of love? Kenin," I emphatically plea, "I am so broken. My mind is so broken. And it would break Finnick along the way." He's about to protest, but I shake my head. "You saw him Kenin. The way he fought for me, how defeated and tired he looks. That would be his life every day. It doesn't matter if he loves me, no one should sacrifice that much of themselves for the person they love. Look what it did for Joln."

Unaccepting, Kenin shakes his head. "Joln's death is not your fault."

"But he did die because of me." I counter. "It's different Kenin, when you love someone. Intimately. It's different." Tears fill my eyes. "I don't want to put him through this. He loves me, yes, but eventually my change would eat away at him. No matter how much you love someone, a self-deteriorating change will eventually leave them with nothing to love. Families love each other through the changes. Intimate love is flexible, but it can't adapt to a completely new change from what the person was when the love started. There has to be something left of what was, and that's gone."

"You seem there to me." Kenin quietly says.

"Because we're not lovers."

Kenin's face turns red, but he doesn't make a disgusted comment. Instead, he finally nods accepting my reason. "If you ever change your mind, tell Finnick immediately. I don't think he'll ever stop loving you."

My heart aches when I say. "I hope he will."

* * *

My heart is racing, pounding, pushing through my chest. It's too much. Too much. The hysteria builds, I open my mouth to scream.

"Annie." Finnick quietly whispers. He's allowed to talk to me. He is the winner after all. "You'll be fine. Kenin will be here the whole time. You can do this."

I take a look at Kenin who is trying to get away from some fans, but is being held up at the moment. "What if I lose it during the interview? What will they do to me?"

Finnick grasps my shoulder, and stares long and hard into my eyes. "You can do this. Then we'll all go back to Four and you can be with the Denfezes."

I do notice how Finnick doesn't talk about us being together. But then again, I'm the one who decided this for us, didn't I? I did. All I want is for Finnick to wrap his arms around me, bury his nose in my hair, and tell me that he loves me. But I can't give myself to him like this. Not as this broken girl. So I just nod.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let us welcome, Annie Cresta of District Four, victor of the 70th Hunger Games!" Caesar roars.

With one last look from Finnick, I breathe in and walk onto the stage. It's bright, and packed with people, noisy, too noisy, I don't think I can do this. But Caesar takes my hand and leads me to my seat. It's surreal being here. How can this world exist when I was just in the arena? What is wrong with these people?

"So Annie, what was going through your mind as you stood on the platform, moments before the game began?" Caesar questions. I spread my hands over the black dress I'm wearing. It's soft, thin, light, glamorous. So out of place on my body. It seems like yesterday that my body was covered in blood. My blood, then the boy's blood. So much blood. Caesar gives a little cough, and nervously chuckles. "Miss Cresta?"

What was going through my mind while I waited for my possible death? What kind of question is that? I spread my fingers, pull them back together, spread my fingers, pull them back together, spread my fingers… Caesar uncomfortably shifts in his seat, and is about to say something, when I speak. "There was a lot of rain. And lightening. And thunder. And the wind, it was so cold. All I could think was, I'm in the arena. I'm in the arena."

My voice is eerie and haunting. Caesar clears his throat. "An interesting alliance you and your district partner made, teaming up with Twelve. Four usually joins the Careers."

I spread my fingers. "Joln." Pull them back together. "His name was Joln." Spread my fingers. "My district partner."

"Yes, that's right, Joln." Caesar repeats. "He was beheaded."

My mind goes numb. There's another sound. In the distance. I look up and see that some cruel person has found this the appropriate time to show a clip of Joln tackling Stephen. Joln looks up to the me on screen, shouting for me to go, go, run! Then there's that dreaded flash and Joln's head detaches. The on screen me and me on stage give a scream at the same time, and the on stage me presses her head between her hands and keeps on screaming in tune with the me on screen as she runs away screaming. We scream and we scream and we scream.

* * *

_Finnick POV_

It's like her mind broke all over again. She's alive, but there's no one behind those vacant eyes. Snow even cancelled the victor's crowning. He felt it was best if we went on our way home because Annie's unsettling behavior was disturbing the Capitol people. As if they know what it's like to be truly disturbed. But that doesn't matter. We're finally headed home.

Annie's been staring out the cart's window for several hours. No movement, no words, only staring. It breaks my heart to see her this way, but she's made it clear I have no place in her life. She holds me accountable for not sending Joln help, not preventing his death, and I don't blame her. Maybe I could have convinced Snow to do something more than just sending the blackbirds as a way out. But in reality, there really was so much I could do. He allowed me to intervene to a certain degree, but it was also on them to stay alive. By the time any of us saw Emerald behind that tree, nothing could have stopped the swing of her blade.

So now we're here. Annie in her seat. Kenin asleep in the chair next to her. I on the other side of the room. I'm just glad she's alive. It's the only thing that matters. We've been like this from the moment we boarded the train, and I don't think I can stand, or sit, to be here anymore. I love her. I want to be here for her. But she has to want me. And she doesn't. I've ruined enough of her life already.

I get out of my chair, grab a bottle of spirits, a bucket of ice, and a glass. It's time I drowned my sorrows in spirits. In my bedroom compartment, I scoop up a glass of ice, and tip the spirits in until it's almost at the brim. It burns going down, and I know it's not the way to deal with things, but I guess Haymitch is on to something. Why be sober when reality clearly sucks. I'd honestly believed things would get better in time, but Haymitch knew what I didn't. It doesn't get better. We just tell ourselves that it does.

I'm drunk and staring at the ceiling when someone slides my compartment door open. There's a scooping sound, rattling of ice in a glass, and thin stream of liquid being poured. Kenin of course. He takes a seat on the chair in my room. "I see you got started without me."

"Join the club." I slur. "Where we drink ourselves drunk because reality is really not any better than the nightmares."

He does take a drink, and swirls the ice in his glass. "She still loves you."

I lean forward with my elbows propping me up on my bed, and I raise my glass to my lips. "And she blames me for Joln's death."

Kenin just sighs and takes another drink. "You said you would be there for her."

"Did you not hear me?" I ask slowly. "She blames me for Joln's death."

"So?"

"So?" I scoff and bitterly laugh. "So," I emphasize, "so I stay away."

He refills his glass, and leans over to refill mine. "You're not actually accountable for his death, you know? So that should mean you ignore what Annie told you, and you be there for her."

I shake my head, sit up, take a drink, and then continue. "No, no. That means Annie is allowed to hold me accountable. She is allowed to feel whatever she wants to, and if she feels I am accountable, then so be it. I'm not going to talk to her about changing her mind so that she'll forgive me." I take another sip. "Whatever she needs, she gets. I can deal with it."

"Clearly." Kenin comments raising the glass to his lips.

"Like you're dealing with it any better?" I pointedly ask raising my glass.

"I'm there for her. And if she holds you accountable, that means she holds me accountable." Kenin tries to emphasize. "Did she actually ask you to stay away?"

I swallow my drink. "Well, no. But you weren't the one pulling strings behind the curtains either. She knows I got them to flood the arena."

He shrugs. "Her mind is broken. You're not supposed to listen to what she says. You're supposed be doing what you said you would do no matter what." I raise my eyebrows. "Being there for her." Kenin replies in exasperation. "This is still a no matter what. No matter what, means: no matter what."

"You don't understand." I finally reply because I can't do anything about this.

"No," Kenin annoyingly says to me as if I'm a child, "you don't understand how much she actually needs you."

"I'm no good for her Kenin." I say finally accepting what I should have accepted a long time ago. "You warned me yourself several times. Remember?"

Kenin just laughs and finishes his drink. "Oh Finnick, it's not like I understood the love between you and Annie. Only the two of you know that. You're not supposed to listen to anyone else. And not to her because she's saying things she doesn't mean."

I roll my eyes. "Because her mind is broken?"

"Yes, because her mind is broken." Kenin replies.

* * *

The entire welcoming home celebration, all I can feel is Yurol's murderous hatred towards me as I stand next to Kenin. She looks tired and so incredibly pissed that I begin to feel uneasy. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if I had to fear for my life because of this one. Even Kenin feels the tension because he snidely comments, "Isn't it great we all live in the same neighborhood?"

I nudge his arm as Revana yammers on about what it means that a tribute from Four has won. In front of us, Annie stands unresponsive to the crowd. She's standing tall and erect, but I know she's not there. I'm not sure where she is. But she is not the one standing in front of me. If I could only hold her, maybe I could help her regain some stability and make new steps. I wouldn't expect her to be the same as before, only that she would eventually get better instead of staying lost in her mind entirely. But, she holds me responsible. And that is enough to keep me away.

Once the ceremony is completed, it's not been three seconds before I receive a powerful _slap_ to the face. One guess. "What is wrong with you! The both of you!" Yurol surprisingly screams at Kenin and I. "While Annie was in the arena you two found it more appropriate to run around with the Capitol women and whore yourselves around!" Yurol's hand is raised for another slap, but Joa grabs her arms forcing her to a stop. "Let go of me!" She shrieks and tears her arm from him. "It was your fault she went there in the first place! Do you have so little regard for her life! Do you just have no soul at all Finnick Odair!"

_Slap._

Stunned silence. Nobody moves. Except Mags who proceeds to walk over to me, take my hand, and lead me away. I glance back at Yurol who is standing, hand pressed to her cheek, in shock. Out of my defense, Mags slapped Yurol in the face. I'm still looking back, and Kenin is talking with Yurol. Annie is nowhere to be seen.

"She ran to the Victors' Village." Mags says as if reading my thoughts.

"Which house is hers?" I ask looking forward again.

"The one across from yours." My heart drops. Isn't it bad enough Annie watched Joln die, and now she has to live in front of me? I don't even realize I've begun to softly cry until Mags gives my hand a squeeze. "Not here Finnick. Wait until we've gone inside my house."

Hastily I wipe away the tears, and allow Mags to lead me home to her home. Once I'm inside, the tears start up again, and she eases me onto the couch. I hold onto Mags' hand as I cry for my beautiful girl. Very gently she strokes my hair, and whispers that it'll be okay. One day, it will all be okay.

* * *

_Annie POV_

The house is big. Empty. Big. Vast. Alone.

I've never realized how the big the homes were until I entered and knew I was alone. My back is pressed into the corner of the living room as I stare at the wall. This is my life now. Alone. Scarred. Battered. Broken. So broken.

Someone is knocking at the door and calling my name, but I don't move. It's takes too much energy and is just too painful. I'll waste away here. Finally fade into the dark corners of the world. Join the ghosts who only exist in tortured minds. Living is too hard. Too time consuming. Too soul draining. I miss my love. But I can't bring him here with me. Not to the place beyond where the broken lie. No one should be here.

* * *

My door breaks open.

I sit here.

Whoever it is, if they're here to kill me, so be it. I should be dead anyways.

Their footsteps quickly run through the entrance, up the stairs, opening and closing doors, run back down, come closer and closer and closer. "Annie."

I push my back further into the corner, and pull my knees closer to my chest. They cautiously approach, stop a few feet away, and crouch down. I don't know who it is. It's been so long since I've seen anyone. They don't exist. It's all in my head. Whoever it is, I don't know them. The person slowly lies down and places their head on the floor. Their eyes watch me, waiting.

Minutes pass until I realize there are three figures standing in the entrance to the living room. Four people. Four Careers. The Careers are back! They're here to kill me! Not like this! I don't want to be killed by them! An awful wail begins at the back of my throat until it fills every room. I squeeze my eyes shut and shriek hoping my cries will scare them away.

I'm too weak to fight back when several hands grab me, and the most I can do is lifelessly slump beneath their hands as I'm dragged up the stairs. Each cry echoes in the air. A light turns on and water begins to flow. I begin to scream because they're going to drown me! Push me under the water like how I was when the arena was flooded! I'm being held upright as I scream, and I turn my head away unable to look at the rising water. And then I see a ghost.

Haunted expression. Sunken eyes. Mouth ajar. Prominent cheekbones. A skeleton of a person. Their arms are so skinny beneath the healthy hands. It looks like the flesh is stretched so tightly across bone. The only thing keeping the skeleton alive is the thin layer of skin. I look back up to the eyes, and see the almost sea green. The mark of the Capitol. It's me. I'm staring at my reflection and the image is so shocking that I stop screaming. I'm so decimated and ghastly. My hair is clumped together, and I smell putrid. Like I'm rotting, but it's the pungent smell of sitting wastes.

The water stops flowing, and I hear a girl's voice. "I'll wash her. You three can wait downstairs."

Feet shuffle, and I hear whispers of their conversation. "It's okay Finnick." My love! "It's okay, she'll get better."

Stifled sobs. "Did you see her Kenin? I thought she wasn't alive. I couldn't move when I saw her in the corner. I thought she'd died."

Their voices fade, and gentle hands slowly lift my shirt over my head. There's a gasp of shock. "Oh, Annie." A sweet girl breathes. "Why didn't you answer the door?" I must be super thin because she easily lifts my bra off, and slides my bottom clothing off without any trouble. She begins to sob and I feel terrible for the nice girl. What could she have to cry about? Surely not someone who has done nothing wrong.

I'm directed towards the water, and when she lifts my leg over something white, I clench to her as my foot touches the water. I'm panicked and scared, but too weak to fight. "It's okay Annie, it's just a bath. I'm here for you. I'm not going to hurt you."

I relax a bit, and slowly release my grip as my entire body is lowered into the warm water. It's warm. Not cold. Not like the floodwaters or ocean. This is safe water. Nice water. Friendly water. The wetness drip over my head, and a citrusy smell fills the air. Foam drips into the water, and I can feel my hair unclumping. It feels good, so I sit here while they envelope me in the smell of citrus.

Water pours over my head washing out the soap. I blink. Once. Twice. Turn my head, and see such a sad face with hollow green eyes. "Yurol?" I croak.

She drops a bottle of conditioner. "Annie!"

"You're washing me?" I slowly ask.

"It's okay. I don't mind. You needed to," she pauses, "take a bath."

I look forward and stare at the tiles. "Thank you."

Yurol breathes in deeply, and picks up the bottle of conditioner. "Oh Annie, your welcome."

As she bathes me, it slowly comes to me that the three figures were Finnick, Kenin, and Joa. I scoop up a handful of foam from the water's surface. "Where's Cameron?"

Yurol lets out a sigh and lifts my right leg to run the sponge over my skin leaving trails of soap. "Don't worry about him."

"Where is he?" I ask again.

She lowers my right leg into the water, and lifts my left leg. My legs are so thin. No longer slender with the plumpness of health. "We broke up."

"What?" My voice is high.

"It doesn't matter Annie. It's over." Yurol tries to say nonchalantly, but I hear the sadness in her voice.

I put a frail hand on her healthy forearm. "Why?" I grip her arm. "It was because of me, wasn't it?"

Yurol stops scrubbing me, and tilts my head towards her so I'm forced to look in her eyes. "It was not your fault. Do you hear me?"

I shake my head out from her hands, and stare at the water. "That's what everyone says. I wish you would all stop lying to me." Before she can say anything, I stand up since I'm fully washed now, and I step out of the tub, dripping wet. Yurol is telling me to come back because I'm not dressed, but everyone here has seen me naked. As I walk to the bedroom, the three boys at the bottom of the stairs look up and see me. Shock shows on their face. Not because I'm naked. But because I know I must look like a skeleton walking around. No meat to spare. Only bones.

I close the bedroom door behind me, and look in the mirror. Each and every bone sticks out so prominently in a sickly nature. My clavicles outline my chest, and every rib presses against my skin. My hipbones stick out and they barely look like they're supporting me. My thighs are so far apart it looks like I'm purposely standing with my legs widened, even though I'm not. My arms hang like sticks. I turn around only to see how every vertebrae is stacked creating my spine—layers from being exposed to the air.

Nobody knocks or comes in, so I open my drawers and find newly bought clothes. I slip on a shirt, not bothering to put on a bra because any breasts I had are now gone. I grab underwear, but it's so loose that I take it off and pull on pants. When I take a step, they begin to fall off, so I pull the extra fabric out and make a knot. When I look in the mirror, I still look like a skeleton, just covered in too loose of clothes.

Finally I leave the room and head downstairs where everyone is waiting. A delicious smell fills my nose, and I see a plate stacked with Finnick's seafood pancakes. He's standing in the front door, and I see terrible pain in his eyes. I don't say anything because I am the loser. Finnick takes me in one more time before quietly saying. "I just wanted to see how you were. I'll…" See you later? Is that what you want to say? I know it's what you were going to. Finnick exhales and grabs the doorknob. "I'll leave you guys alone."

He closes the door and I stand on the last stair as if I can somehow still see him. Still feel him. The way I did when I stood on the stairs in the Shack. Yurol takes my hand and seats me at the table. Kenin takes a seat across from us. "Eat Annie. You need to eat."

I look at the plate she's pushed towards me. I reach out and take a pancake as Joa brings everyone glasses of water, and takes a seat next to Kenin. We eat in silence before I finally ask. "How long has it been since we came back?"

Kenin's voice is very low. "Nearly a week."

I've been sitting in the corner for a week? I slowly chew and swallow. It feels like life going into me, and I hate it. "I'll take better care of myself, I promise."

"Stay with us Annie." Yurol pleads. "You don't have to live here by yourself."

I shake my head. "I'll stay at Finnick's. There's a lot I need to talk with him about. Please don't visit me while I'm there. I need to sort through everything."

Yurol softly asks. "You want to stay with him? After everything that's happened? Annie…"

"I know you don't understand, but I love him." I quietly reply. No one says anything, so I finally do. "Thank you for coming to check on me. But I'd like to be alone now. I'll go over to Finnick's tomorrow. I promise." One more broken promise added to the list. I pushed Finnick away so I wouldn't bring him down with me, now I need to extend the same courtesy to them.

The Denfezes silently nod and leave the table. Alone again. At last. Because I survived the games. And I don't want to drown. I make my way over to the couch, lie down, and wait.

* * *

_Finnick POV_

It's been over a week since I saw Annie on the stairs. It reminded me so much of our moment in the Shack. Except Annie didn't look like a skeleton then. She didn't look like all the life in her had completely vanished. Every night I am haunted with the image of Annie's naked body as she walked by to her bedroom. All her bones, _her bones_, they were so prominent. I could count her ribs and see the grooves in her pelvic bone. I could see the spaces between the bones in her spine.

My eyes are squeezed shut and I pinching the bridge of my nose when someone asks. "Finnick?"

I look up and see Cameron. "Oh, hey."

"You alright?" He asks concerned.

"I'm fine." I shake my head trying to vanquish the images of Annie's decrepit body. "Just, the usual stress after returning from a game."

With a hint of accusation, Cameron unexpected replies. "You didn't look stressed during your Capitol stay."

I look at him. He's holding a net of seaweed dripping saltwater on the ground. Is he being serious? I'm going to get it from him too? I cough into my hand, and look away. "Yeah well, things are different there."

More obvious anger flashes in Cameron's eyes. "Clearly."

"What is your problem?" I snap unable to do the casual act any longer.

"You don't get it, do you?" He angrily retorts. "You don't see how your actions tore their family apart. I'm the one who told Yurol about your visits on the screen, and at first it was okay. Annie tried her best to get better. But then she volunteered because of what I told Yurol, and Yurol couldn't let that go."

I scoff. "So you hate me too because your girlfriend is mad that you told her about the heinous acts I commit?"

Cameron clenches the net in his hand. "Ex-girlfriend. And no. I'm not so shallow as you to only think about myself. I saw how it destroyed Yurol that her sister was being sent to her death. It broke Joa too. It broke their entire family to have to endure another reaping after Minul died. The brother you mentored!"

This is like a blow to my chest. I did mentor Minul. Then Annie volunteered because of me. Causing Joln to volunteer and be beheaded. No matter my intentions, it doesn't change what has happened. It all comes back to me and what a terrible person I am. I'd thought Annie changed me for the better, and that was the most selfish thing of all. To fall in love with her because she was so sweet, so kind, so incredibly beautiful. I've done nothing but destroy her life, and again I know I should have stayed far, far away.

Unable to face Cameron anymore, I clench my teeth and begin to leave. "I need to go."

Cameron gives a scoff of disgust, but doesn't say anything else. I've ruined his life too. He was trying to help, but Yurol needed someone to blame. She should only blame me. My head is swimming in self-hatred as I walk up the porch stairs to my house when I hear Yurol call my name. "Finnick!"

I turn around, eyes closed, waiting for a slap. She runs up the stairs, and…nothing. I open one eye and look at her. Exasperatedly, Yurol sighs. "I'm not going to slap you. Although I'd like to the beat the life out of you."

Well, now that that's settled. I open my other eye and run a hand through my hair. "What do you want Yurol?"

"Don't talk to me like that." Yurol snaps. "You know what I want. Let me talk to her."

I look her over and slowly ask. "Talk to who?"

Yurol's hand flinches and I know she's restraining herself. "Don't play dumb with me Odair. Annie told me she was going to be here. It's no secret. And I don't care if she doesn't want to talk to me, I need to talk to her. Now!" I let the words run through my head. She thinks Annie is here? _Here_?

"Well here's what you can do." I can't help but have sarcasm drip every word. "You walk down my porch, walk straight ahead, knock on her door, and wait for her to answer. Then you can talk to Annie." Yurol takes a step forward, and then what Yurol said hits me. Annie told Yurol that she would be here? "Wait, Annie told you she was at my place? Why would she—"

It all falls into place. Annie said that so no one would go and check on her. I'm leaping off my porch and sprinting towards Annie's door leaving Yurol behind. I burst through Annie's door with too much force since it's still broken from my last entrance, and it smells awful. That's what hits me first. The same smell of when we found her. I dash into the living room and see Annie lying on the couch, face up, completely emaciated.

Her skin is deathly pale, and her bones stick out almost painfully. I scoop Annie into my arms and feel her bones slide against each other with the movement. Her skin is dry and her lips cracked. Yurol is yelling at me, but stops dead silent at the sight of me holding Annie in my arms. She begins to sob, and I jog over to her. "I need to take her to the healer."

Yurol just sobs nodding her head, and I take off running, carrying my bundle of bones.

* * *

.

.

.

.

..

.

.

.

.

.

.

i wasn't expecting this to be the direction i took either :o

thanks for staying with me, and reading


	35. Chapter 35: Self-Destruction

**it is 2 a.m, and this time i really won't be revising until later today, so if there are major errors, please ignore. i'll try to write this weekend since i kinda wanna be a recluse and take a break from life.**

**enjoy =]**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Five: Self-Destruction**

_Annie POV_

My head hurts. It throbs. It's also hard to breathe. Each inhale painfully stretches my skin over protruding ribs. Each exhale further cracks my lips. Somebody saved me. They had no right to. But they did. Maybe if I'd gone undiscovered for a few more days…well, that's not the case anymore. I'm here. In a strange home. Lying on a standing bed. Surrounded by brightly glowing candles. There's also a sharp pain in my arm.

Very painfully, I turn my head and look at my left arm. Nestled in my vein is a sharp needle attached to a hanging bag of liquid. Is it poison? If they wanted to kill me, they should have left me where I was. So they're not trying to kill me. They're filling me with fluids. When was the last time I drank water? I can't remember. I don't remember much. Everything seems so far away. Even the bed I'm laying on. It's touching my skin, but it feels surreal. It feels as if my soul is inside my body, but not connected. None of this feels like mine. Not the limbs, torso, hair. None of it.

The inside of my mouth is parched. As the air filters in, it causes a mild pain in my throat. Does my body finally match the way my mind feels? It must. I've never felt so physically broken and worn out. Deteriorated is the better word. I am wasting away. Or I was. Until someone intruded on what should have been my choice. Why won't they let me go? Don't they know that living is impossible?

It's so impossible. Too impossible. Completely and utterly impossible.

I only realize I'm crying when strong, smooth fingers wipe tears from my face. And it feels as if there's nothing but a thin paper separating my cheekbone from those beautiful fingertips. It's such a wonderful feeling to have him touch me again, and I can almost grab onto a reason to live. This will of life stays with me as Finnick stares into my eyes and I see unbearable sadness within his pained sea green. His lips are parted, and resting on the very edge are the unformed tormented questions.

This is what I am doing to my beautiful boy. Destroying and breaking him. Making him suffer as he sees how far I've come to nearly letting myself die. The unshaven facial hair lets me know Finnick's had no energy to upkeep his usual hairless complexion. All the tangles and knots in his usual unruly yet composed, but now unkempt hair shows me the stress he's been enduring. Deep dark circles tell me that Finnick has barely gotten any sleep, if he's slept at all. Why does he keep staying? Doesn't he know I'm trying to give him an out?

"Annie," Finnick breathes in a hollow whisper, "Annie, Annie, what were you thinking? Do you not know how many people care about you? How much we love you?" My heart stills upon hearing _we_. "You promised to keep fighting. And I know it's hard, I can't imagine what you're going through, but you promised." He urgently whispers. "You _promised_."

I don't expect myself to speak, but very softly I beg. "Take the out Finnick. Please. Just take it."

Confusion floods Finnick's face, and his eyebrows pull together. "The out? What are you talking about?"

"I know I'm broken. It's all jumbled up in here." I try to explain. "All the things I thought I knew, they're missing. Only bits and pieces." Now I'm getting confused. "It's not whole. I mean, my thoughts flow, but the words don't." I squeeze my eyes shut as I attempt to figure out what I am trying to say. "I'm broken." Okay, repetitive, but it's in the right direction. "You don't need to do this to yourself. Coming to my rescue. I'm trying to give you an out, so take it. Move on."

Very slowly the confusion is replaced with a look of recall, and then wondering realization. Finnick places a hand on the side of my head, and stares intently into my eyes. "Kenin, he knows more than he lets on, doesn't he? On the train, he said I shouldn't listen to you because you were saying things you didn't mean. I thought he didn't understand, but I'm the one who didn't, aren't I? What you're doing now, what you have been doing, is pushing me away, so you can give me an out." I'm getting confused, but I think I understand. "Do you really hold me accountable Annie, or are you lying to give me a way out so I don't have to be at your side every moment?"

"Take it Finnick." I whisper. "I'm not her anymore. Can't you see that?"

"Of course I see that Annie." Finnick says. "Nobody comes out the same. But how could you think I'd stop loving you because of that?"

I shake my head. "It's not that. I know you do. But it's not fair for you to love me while I'm like this."

Finnick shakes his head in utter disagreement, and firmly but gently presses his lips to mine. It's like a jolt of energy passes from our lips all the way into my heart giving it a kick-start. I feel the ferocity of his kiss, and the urgency of Finnick's need for me to understand that he loves me no matter what. Whole and broken. There and not there. Sane and insane. Beautiful and bedraggled. Functional and dysfunctional.

No matter what.

He holds my fragile face in his hands, his facial hair lightly stroking my skin, and he only pulls back when I've felt everything he wanted me to. Finnick's nose is inches from mine, and he adamantly whispers. "No matter how you are, you are _still_ everything that I love. You are _still_ the girl I fell in love with. I love you Annie Cresta, and I am never leaving you again. No matter what you say. I am yours forever."

All the hurtful things I want to say, all the lies I want to tell Finnick so he'll leave me for good, are at the tip of my tongue, but he shakes his head. "Unless you tell me you hate me, I am staying by your side—always." He leans forward and presses his forehead to mine. "So, do you hate me Annie Cresta?"

The connection and love we've always had consumes me, and breaks my will to keep him away despite how selfish it is. I slowly shake my head from side to side. "No Finnick Odair, I love you."

* * *

_Finnick POV_

Very gently my lips move with Annie's until I hear a little _cough_. Instinctively my head snaps in the direction of the cough, and I see the healer standing next to an extremely pissed Yurol. She is fuming and the room instantly fills with tension. The healer uncomfortably _coughs_ into his hand again before stepping our way. "It's a good sign you're awake and _active_ Miss Cresta. For several days it was a little touch and go. But that doesn't seem to be a problem anymore."

Despite her malnutritioned state, Annie manages to slightly blush. She tries to lift her upper body, but the healer immediately eases her back down. "No, no. You need to rest. Any form of exertion may possibly be too much for your heart to handle at this point. And that includes kissing."

My face grows warm because Yurol looks like she wants to murder me on the spot; she probably would if the healer wasn't here. He doesn't seem to notice. The healer looks at the IV drip, and nods. "Very good. A few more days, and you can return home. We should be in the clear now, but I want us to be cautious. Do you have any questions?"

Annie feebly shakes her head.

The healer nods again, eyes Yurol and I, and hurriedly leaves. Once he's closed the door, Yurol attacks. Thankfully it's not with a slap though. "While I appreciate everything you have done Finnick," she thinks, "well almost everything, it doesn't mean you can just waltz back in to Annie's life. It was nice of you to stay here while she recovered, but I think it's time you left."

I don't know what to say to this because Yurol has every right to hate me, but I love Annie and she loves me. But then Annie softly speaks up. "Please Yurol, leave it alone. I want him to stay."

Yurol eyes me, and walks over to Annie. She crouches at the table-bed, and gently wraps her hands around Annie's. "You can't mean that. After everything he has put you through. I know you love him, but Annie. You volunteered because he was seeing other girls. He's still seeing other girls. It's all over the screens."

"I know." Annie slowly says. "I know. And I know you don't understand, but I love him. I need him."

Yurol's body stiffens, and I can hear tears in her voice. "You're better than this Annie. You deserve so much more than a guy who sleeps around while he's with you."

"I love him." Annie sadly replies again.

The anger quickly resumes, and Yurol stands up. She faces me. "Are you going to stop sleeping around?"

I try to swallow the guilt. Yurol has no way of knowing that it's mandatory for me to sleep around, all she sees is the golden boy who's caused her best friend to fall in love with him while he whores around with a parade of Capitol women. Yurol has broken off her relationship with Cameron because he was the one who brought my sleeping around to light which sent Annie into this downwards spiraling mess of self-destruction. She has given up so much for Annie, and all she sees is that Annie wants to stay with the guy who brought upon all this misery, and I still will not be faithful to Annie.

Very quietly I answer. "It's not that simple."

Yurol's jaw drops. "You're going to sleep around after everything you have put her through? You can't bring yourself to be faithful to my best friend whose life you've destroyed? Whose forgiveness and acceptance you don't deserve?" She begins to scream. "It's very simple Finnick! You stop screwing every girl who crosses your path and be faithful to Annie! She shouldn't be taking you back, and she is! Yet you can't promise to not be a whore!"

"Stop it!" Annie cries. "Please stop it!" She reaches out and takes Yurol's hand. "There's a lot you don't understand, but I love him, so please, I am _begging_ you, leave it alone."

Angrily, Yurol yanks her hand from Annie's. "You're damn right I don't understand. He doesn't love you, Annie. If he did, he would be faithful to you. What happened between the first time you saw him on screens with that girl until now? What's changed your mind about being with him?" Yurol leans over the bed, and pleads. "Tell me what is going on."

Annie sadly whispers. "I can't."

Yurol begins to cry, and steps away. "Then I can't watch you do this to yourself. I won't." She breathes in deeply, sobs shaking her chest. "Until you see him for what he is, I can't be here for you."

Yurol exits the room not even bothering to throw me a hateful glare. On the bed, Annie begins to cry, and I pull a chair up next to her. "Annie," and I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I see her falling apart all over again at the thought of losing her sister, "maybe Yurol's right. Do we really belong together? She's your family, and she has every right to not understand."

"I don't want to lose you." Annie cries.

"I don't want you to lose your family." I whisper.

This makes Annie sob even harder, and I wrap my hands around hers pressing my lips to her flesh. Are we kidding ourselves? Can we actually dream about living a happy life together? Everything I do destroys her life. At least when I'm involved. It would hurt her for me to be gone, but it would bring an end to all the tragedies. She survived the games, and now her family would know to never leave her alone. I'm the only destructive thing left. We keep trying and trying to be together, but the result is always the same. More pain just comes with our unity. It's insanity we expect anything else.

Maybe this is how it's supposed to end. When everything is out in the open and we know we love each other. It can end on good terms, just wrong everything else. Wrong place, wrong time, wrong world. And there has also just been too much pain left in the wake of our love. There's no denying that. I've brought down Annie and the ones she loves. I think it's time we put aside our selfishness and finally stopped denying what's been in front of us this whole time.

Annie speaks up breaking my thoughts. "You're thinking about it too, aren't you?"

I kiss her hand. "I'd do anything to change it."

She sighs. "After everything we've been through."

"I know." I softly breathe.

Her hand pulls from mine, and her fingers stroke my stubble. "I can't do this to Yurol. Not after what I put her through. Her and Cameron. My games."

"I know."

"If she only knew what I do." Annie painfully says.

"But she can't." I reply.

Annie nods. "I know."

I press my face into Annie's palm. "I'll always be here for you."

She feebly smiles. "We just can't be together."

"Yes." I finally admit and feel my heart completely tear.

"Yes." Annie echoes.

I lean forward, and very lightly press my lips to hers. It's not even a kiss really. More of so we can have this one last physical contact—purely emotional rather than sensual. When our lips pull away, I whisper. "I love you Annie Cresta. I always will. No matter what."

"I'll always be in love with you Finnick Odair." She strokes my cheek. "I love you so much my beautiful boy."

I kiss her cheek. "My silly girl."

We hold onto each other because this will be our final last—we're both finally on the same page; this, us, can continue no longer. Not at the expense of Annie sacrificing her relationship with Yurol. I can't allow her to do that, and Annie can't bring herself to do so. This is how it has to be. Yurol will never understand, no one will, only the victors. Because this is the life of a victor. Very seldom chances at happiness. And even then, those chances are not truly yours. They are at the mercy of the Capitol.

I hold onto Annie's hand until she falls asleep again, exhausted from this entire ordeal, and then I gently lay her hand on the table. She gently mumbles when I remove my hand, but she doesn't wake up. I quietly leave the healer's home, and see Yurol outside leaning against the wall, crying into her hands. She looks up at me, but there's so much defeat, there isn't even room for hatred.

Very quietly I tell her. "You were right. I don't deserve her."

Yurol stifles a few sob, and unsteadily asks. "What does that mean?"

I breathe in slowly allowing the pain to consume me. "I can't be the one for her. I can never give her what she deserves." And I feel the anger begin to rise. "We're over. We're done. I'll never be with her again."

Before Yurol can say anything, before she can gloat or make a comment, I walk away. I walk away from the life I would have given Annie. The one where she would have loss her sister, the one where she would never get married, the one where she would never raise children of her own, the life where Annie would have eventually died alone knowing she would never really be mine, and I hers. That is the life I walk away from giving her. And I am so angry that that is the only life I had to offer because I would have liked to think my love for Annie would have been able to give her so much more than loneliness and emptiness.

* * *

_Annie POV_

My pointer and middle finger walk across my belly and use each rib as a step. They walk over the small lump of my returning breast, and onto my clavicle. Then they turn back and walk the way they came from. They step onto my hipbone and look at the view. White walls, dressers, a mirror, a few of Yurol's personal pocessions. She's at the Shack, Kenin is somewhere, Joa is in his room, and I just showered but decided to stay undressed for the moment and to lie down on Yurol's bed. I've been sleeping in her room for the past few days or week or weeks, I'm not really sure about the time.

A knock on the door. "Annie?" It's Joa. Checking on me to make sure I'm not doing anything reckless.

My fingers jump off from my hip and disappear into rejoining the others. I sit up and say. "I'm fine."

"Come out when you're dressed." He replies. "We're supposed to meet everyone in an hour."

I get off the bed, and dig through the dresser until I find some clothes I like. The white long sleeved shirt and black pants. As I pull his shirt over my head, I see my reflection in the mirror. I'm still really thin, but I've gained some weight at least. My ribs aren't so visible, and you can see less of my spine. The shirt is too loose though, and I roll the sleeves halfway up my upper arm. But I don't have to tie the pants' extra fabric into a knot anymore. Now I just have to continuously pull them up every once in awhile. The mark of the Capitol stares back at me, and I tie my hair into a sloppy bun. My long bangs hang along the side of my face outlining my features. There's still a sadness to my expression, but it's less noticeable. At least, I believe it is.

When I open the door, I see Joa standing at the stairs. He asks. "Ready?"

I nod and walk down with him. "I'm not going to do anything."

He sighs. "I believe you. But I still worry."

"I know." I tell him.

Joa closes the house door behind us, and locks it. As he does that, I look at the neighborhood. Mags' house is directly across, mines is next to hers, and across from mines is Finnick's, and next to his is Kenin's. Joa comes up to my side. "Have you seen him since the healer?"

I bite my lower lip before saying. "No. I haven't." I don't move from the porch. "How long has it been?"

"A little over two weeks." Joa replies.

Two? That long? Time seems to have lost its meaning on me. "How long since my game?"

"About two and a half months."

"Today is Kenin's birthday." I state. I've known this for a while, but I guess it kept slipping from my mind. Now that I think about it, I didn't know where Joa and I were going when I was in Yurol's room. But now it comes to me. We're going to the beach for Four's celebration. "He'll be there, won't he?"

Joa nods. "Maybe. Kenin invited him."

I softly say. "That's good. That's good. He needs a friend."

"You still love him." Joa states.

"Yes." I reply with less pain than before. "Yes I do."

Joa is about to say something, but the sound of a door opening to our left stops him. We both turn and see Kenin come out of Finnick's house, followed by my beautiful boy who locks the door. He turns his head, and stops at the sight of me. It's a lot to take in—seeing each other for the first time since he left. All the old wounds split open and the pain is fresher than ever. It's hurts to breathe, to think, to be. Everything just hurts.

Finally I inhale stretching my lungs with a great deal of pain. This breath of air doesn't make it easier, but it's enough to have me continue living. I stare at Finnick's face which looks so incredibly tormented and distraught. He presses his lips together and I watch his chest slowly inflate. This motion makes me feel the pain he feels. I know how it is. We both do. Our entire being aches with the longing of what can never be. What will never be. All these dreams and desires, so uselessly yearned for. They're just fantasies.

I slowly swallow, and take a step down from the porch, keeping my eyes on Finnick the entire time. His bronze hair is slightly longer, falling into his sad sea green eyes, almost like a curtain to hide what lurks beneath. A tightly defined jawline tells me he's clenching his teeth. There's no facial hair, so I know he's been trying to deal with our situation as best he can. But the light circles beneath Finnick's eyes show me it hasn't been easy. Sleepless nights, no doubt filled with nightmares. I kept the nightmares away for him, Yurol keeps them away for me, no one keeps them away for him now.

Finnick walks down his porch and then towards me. We stop in front of each other. Nothing but unspoken words pass between us. He would be reaching out to stroke my cheek, and I would be stepping forward to press my body against his. My head would eventually rest against his chest, and he would have rested his left hand in my hair. I'd be breathing in his scent which I can smell from here, and it's so intoxicating because it's unique to the only guy I've ever loved. I would breathe it in all day, if I could. And then I would have looked up into Finnick's eyes, and he would have leaned down to give me an endearing kiss. Our _I love you_ would be exchanged and nothing in the world could have stopped our happiness. Nothing.

Except, everything has stopped us.

It was the Capitols interference, then my reaping, then Joln's beheading, then me breaking, then almost dying, then Yurol. We were at our last hurdle, and that's the only one we couldn't get over. No matter how much I love Finnick, I couldn't forsake Yurol into feeling she needed to let me go, and I know Finnick wouldn't let that happen. It's why I love him. He understands when no one should. He was my lover, and I chose my sister over him. We both know I did. Even if neither of us have said it. I can't imagine the love, but resent he must feel at my decision. But that's what makes him so great. He would never ask me to sacrifice that much of my life.

So, I love him.

Finnick slightly tilts his head and I read the _I love you_ in the green. But instead, he softly says. "Hey."

I find my voice and reply just as softly. "Hey."

Silence.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

Four seconds.

He lets out a long sigh, and attempts to smile. "You look good. I've never seen you with your hair up in Four."

Finnick has seen my hair up in the Capitol, but he's right. Never in Four. I reach up and touch my bun. "Thanks. I uh," I've almost always been honest with him, "didn't brush it."

Very softly he chuckles since that's not normally something you would say, but it's also the truth. "I won't tell anyone."

I smile. "I know."

We don't say anything, and we fall silent again. There's so much to tell the other person, but all of it we can't. I mean, what would it do? We still can't be together. He still belongs to the Capitol. I'm still rather broken. Nothing about our situation is different. Nothing will change this endless cycle of separation. Our lives have split apart, but have remained stuck from that point.

Somebody says. "We need to get going."

Both Finnick and I turn to see Kenin and Joa standing a few yards away. I'd forgotten they were here. Kenin must have spoken because the voice sounded older. In front of me, Finnick nods. "Okay."

Kenin and Joa look at Finnick and I before walking away to let the two of us hang back out of ear's reach if we talk softly. While we walk out of the Victors' Village, Finnick doesn't say anything, and neither do I. It feels so sad to be walking next to the guy I love when everything I want to say would only hurt us more. We walk past a few homes, and near the edge of the shops. How many times did we walk this route on our way to the Victors' Village, or to the Shack?

We're on our way to Kenin's birthday. Kenin is seventeen. I'll be nineteen later. Kenin's birthday is today. Finnick's birthday is before Kenin's. Finnick is twenty. I look at Finnick. "What did you do for your birthday?"

He turns his head. "My birthday." I nod. Finnick presses his lips together and runs a hand through his hair. "I uh, spent it with you."

I'm confused. We didn't celebrate his birthday. We've been apart since I returned to Four, and our only time together was at the healer's. "Why don't I remember this?"

"Annie," Finnick quietly says, "we were at the healer's."

It hits me. Finnick spent his birthday worrying about whether I would die or not. "Finnick…"

"Don't worry about it." He tries to assure me. "You were okay. That's all I wanted."

"Did you do anything at all to celebrate it?" I ask almost pleadingly because I hate knowing that's how he spent his birthday.

In the very familiar Finnick-Odair-way, he shrugs his shoulders. "I never really celebrated my birthday. It's okay." He nudges my arm because tears have begun to fill my eyes. "I wouldn't have been good company anyway. You saved Mags from an awkward evening of me sitting on the couch ignoring her attempts to have a conversation."

I laugh and wipe away the tears. "I'm sure she would have understood."

Finnick smiles and nods. "Yeah. She's very patient."

"I'm glad you have her." I quietly tell him.

"Me too." He says.

We're near the beach now—less homes and saltier air. It's near the end of our short road. Yurol will be infuriated if she sees me talking to Finnick, and it's not good for the both of us to spend too much time together. It only makes the want hurt more. But I'm not ready to part from him just yet.

I push my bangs to the side behind my ear. "Everyone keeps looking out for me, making sure that I don't let go. And I know they're just worried, they have every right to be. But I wish they'd stop. I see the pity and doubt in their eyes." Finnick is facing me, intently listening to every word. "And all I want is for them to not look at me that way."

"Have you told them this?" He quietly asks.

I face Finnick, and give a fake one-breath-laugh. "Finnick, nobody's going to listen to the girl who went crazy after her ex-lover got beheaded because she volunteered after being with a guy who everyone thinks wasn't faithful by choice."

He gives the same fake laugh. "No, I suppose not." His eyes flicker to the side, then back at me. "Between you and me, I don't think you're crazy. I think you're disturbed after watching your ex get killed for trying to help you since you thought I was cheating on you, which I am, or was, but you know why now." Finnick clears his throat. "None of them know our story. Maybe Kenin does, but not all of it. Only we do. So, you're not crazy. And please don't ever think you are. You're perfect the way you are."

Finnick's last sentence hangs in the air. I about collapse on the spot so I can fall into his arms. How can he say something like that and not expect me to have my heart just drop? This is the young man who I love, and he sees me as I am. Not as the mad girl as the whispers have labeled me. Not as the utterly helpless and broken girl. He understands the degree of my trauma and it's perfectly okay with him. I am perfect to him. How can I not love such a guy as him?

"You can't say things like that Finnick." I whisper unmoving from the place I've stopped at. "You can't tell me I'm perfect and talk about our story." I hear the sob creeping into my tone. He stands next to me with a sad expression as I continue whispering. "You can't say these things aloud and expect me to not love you even more because it hurts too much to think about us. It _hurts_ Finnick." I feel the tears rolling down my face, and his hand tenses as he resists the urge to wipe them away. "All the time, all I want to do is to go to your house and crawl into bed with you. Have you hold me and tell me that it's all going to be okay. That it's okay for me to be this broken. But now that you've said that, you can't. Because I will never stop loving you, but we can never be together. So when you say things like that, it sucks all the happiness from my world because you're not here with me." My shoulders shake as the sobs come out. "You're there and I'm _here_. And I will always be right here. And you will always be right there. We will always be so close, but it'll never be enough."

Finnick wraps his arms around me as I go into a full blown out sob, unable to deal with the fact that he can't be there for me. Because I miss him so much. And now that he's here with me, it's unbearable to miss him when he's so close. Every part of me is just crying out for him because how can we both feel this way, how can he be right here, and yet how can he still not be mine to have in my life? He feels like such a part of me that to have him stay away is like trying to scrape away the very essence of life I found to make me into a stronger person. Finnick complemented me in every aspect, and with him gone, it leaves me with less than half the person I used to be because parts of me left with him.

Very gently Finnick rubs my back and my slightly protruding spine as I cry into his chest. I can feel his pain as his hands stroke each vertebrae because I let myself get so wasted that it almost killed me. Even my ribs press into his abdomen. None of this can be easy for Finnick. To hold me and feel how fragile I am. To be able to feel almost every bone in my body when only a few months ago I was slender but healthy when we made love for the last time. What we thought would be the last time. What will probably be the last time.

And it feels so good to have him near. To have his body pressed to mine. The world feels safe and endurable once more. It's all the beautiful things wrapped into one. But it's not real. Because we're not back together. He is still not mine. Our lives are still going in different directions no matter how many times they may overlap. And that's the worst of it all, isn't it? To always be crossing each other's path but not being able to have anything to do with the other person. We torture ourselves over and over but it still remains the same.

I pull away from Finnick and look at his face. Tanned, shaved, smooth, tight jawline, perfect proportion of features: nose, sea green eyes, those lips. But it's also unbearably sad with longing. His expression of heart wrenching ache is too obvious to hide. He bites his upper lip, waiting for what I'm going to say. Very slowly his chest inflates as he braces himself for what's coming. I watch his arm muscles tense, and I can almost feel the definition and veins beneath my fingertips. Like my own body has unconsciously memorized the feel of his.

I draw in a breath of air and close my eyes. I remember the obnoxious guy I saw when we first met. He was standing outside the window, acting completely arrogant, and I disliked him so much. Even when Kenin was reaped, it seemed like Finnick was the guy everyone made him out to be. But then so much changed between then and our encounters. Deep inside he was still a badly damaged soul prone to relentless guilt and nightmares. Yet he sacrificed so much of himself for Kenin, and acted selflessly when helping others. He saved Herfe, took countless slaps to the face from myself and Yurol, patiently had self-control, understood the strange, cooked well.

How can these memories count for nothing? We'll always have those memories, but what happened to building more memories with each other? We are supposed to be together. All I have to do is tell him this. Tell him right here and now. Just breathe in, and let my exhale be the words which are meant to be spoken. Because if our love still feels this way, it's right, isn't it? I mean, love can fade in time if there's nothing to fuel it, but if it doesn't fade, that's saying something. It has to be.

"Annie, what are you doing?" A protective sisterly voice asks, scattering my certainty and confidence.

My eyes open and I turn my head to see Yurol standing in the road with Kenin and Joa standing behind her with pained expressions. I wet my lips and softly reply. "Nothing. We were just talking."

She clenches her jaw and says in a tight voice. "Well, Kenin's party starts in several minutes. We should get going." Her eyes flicker to Finnick. "I'll walk with Annie. Kenin can walk with _you_." There's no room for protest or argument. "Annie, let's go."

Although I know she'll be mad, I face Finnick again and I feel that stab of pain. He looks ashamed and destroyed. I nearly whisper. "I have to go."

"Yeah." He whispers back.

I gaze at Finnick for just a little bit longer—taking in the face I've grown to know so well, but also the face I always seem to be leaving behind. And it's more than the face, it's the soul you grow to love. The very essence which makes a person, the person in their body. I love that about Finnick. His soul. So inevitably, I love him as a person. I'll always love him. We're just not meant to be each other's physically. And without that physical presence, you're never really together.

So honestly, a part of me hates Yurol for loving me too much. But she's the one I'll leave with as I turn from my beautiful boy and walk towards her—choosing my sister over the love of my life once more.

* * *

_Finnick POV_

As much as I try to push it down, the bitterness continues to rise like bile overflowing into the back of my throat. As much as I understand Annie's decision to not dispute my acceptance that it'd be best if she loss me over Yurol, the anger of knowing she picked Yurol is still overwhelming. Now all these emotions are amplified by the fact she chose Yurol once again. And I understand it, I really do, but my feelings don't just have an on and off button. I can't control the rage and hurt and love I feel.

It takes every conscious effort within me to regulate my breathing so I don't give away the turmoil beneath. The more I think, the angrier I get, and the harder it is to control my grip on everything. I must have a poor grip on things already because I don't realize we're at the beach until Kenin shoves a drink into my hand. He's watching me with intense blue eyes, waiting for me to take a sip of whatever's in my cup.

"Thanks." I mutter raising the cup to my lip. It burns more than usual going down. A lot more.

Kenin takes a drink from his cup, and even he slightly makes a face. "Don't mention it."

"What is this?" I ask him.

"Not that Capitol stuff for sure." He replies with his cup between his lips. "Old man Greg brews this. It's called White Sunburn. Twenty times more potent, twenty times the burn of going down."

I look around at the hundreds of people standing on the sand. "You got this for everyone? Do you want to kill them?"

Kenin scoffs and takes another drink. "I got this for us. Everyone else is drinking juice or regular spirits."

I take another drink and my throat does feel like it's being burned white-hot. "Good. Most people wouldn't be able to handle this."

"They don't have our acquired drinking habits." Kenin agrees. He finishes his cup, and throws it in a bag. "Don't drink anymore after you finish. Trust me, this is more than enough for us to blackout. Now if you'll excuse me, I am the birthday boy, and I would like my gift from several eagerly awaiting girls."

He grins with a flirtatious expression, already putting his game face on, and to be on the other end of it, is a bit disturbing. Is this how I come across? It must be. Yet somehow it never ceases to work. I down the rest of my cup and instantly regret it. My insides feel like they've erupted in fire, and I have to steady myself with a table. The White Sunburn is already affecting my head—noises have merged into a distant drone, a fluidity seems to be in the air, and, I don't care as much.

The sudden drunkenness settles down, and I get used to the feeling I know so well. It's easy to navigate through the motions since I've acclimated to the discombobulating effect. Take my hand off the table. Walk around. Pass numerous faceless people. Have all the girls follow me with their eyes. Smile like a damn fool at them. Sit around one of the many bonfires. Wait. Wait. Wait for it. Somebody takes a seat next to me. They say something. Turn my head. A very attractive girl about my age. I reply. She says something. I grin and respond. Attractive girl laughs and scoots closer. Put my hand on her knee and tell her things that girls like her want to hear.

Girl nods her head away from the bonfire. Nod in agreement. Get up to leave. Cold sand spilling over my feet. We're walking away from the crowd. Going down a road. My arm is around her, her arm around my waist. Laughing like drunken idiots. That's what we are. She opens a door. Inside. Door close. Lips. Hand in hair. Pull dress over her head. Against wall. My shirt drops to the floor. Hands fumble around my pants. Breathing hard. It's hot. So hot. Move to bed. Ignore that voice in my head; she's drowned out by the drunken need. Don't make love—just sex. The regular, meaningless sex. Both exhausted who knows how long later. Girl wraps her arms around me. Nestles head against my chest. Closes eyes. I'm still really drunk. Lean into pillow. Sleep.

* * *

Before my eyes open, I can feel the way my entire body aches. The stiffness in my muscles, the dull throb in my head, a rawness to my throat. What happened last night? I let out a sigh with my eyes still closed as I try to remember. Annie left with Yurol, Kenin walked with me to the beach. It's fuzzy from there. Okay, we were at the beach. Drinking. It was called…something, but it was strong. I walked around, there was a fire, a girl and I talked. What did we talk about? I was smiling at a lot of people before that. Girls actually. I was smiling at a lot of girls before the fire. But I didn't talk with anyone until the fire.

Did I put my hand on her knee? What was I thinking? Flirting with a girl I have no interest in. It was dark then. A road. So I left and walked somewhere. Back to my place. Why would I do that? Whatever Kenin gave me, it was clearly so strong I had to leave early. There's a strange presence around my waist. At some point during the night, did I wrap a piece of clothing around me? The weight around my waist shifts, and somebody moves away.

Somebody! My eyes snap open and I'm distorted by the strange location. I'm not in my room, I'm in a regular home I've seen so often with the girls I would sleep with. No, no, no! I very slowly turn my head, and see a girl asleep next to me. A naked girl. Hair a skewed with that just, well yeah, look. It all comes back to me. The kissing, pressed against the wall, shedding our clothes, our bodies pressed together. This makes me physically cringe, and the girl murmurs in her sleep at the disturbance.

Every inch of my body aches with dehydration, but I need to get out of here. Right now! Little by little, I lift myself up and get out at the foot of the bed. Quietly, but quickly, I pull my pants and shirt on. Thankfully the girl is still asleep so I can make a silent escape. I wince as her bedroom door slightly creaks, but she doesn't wake. At least she lives alone because I can't count how many awkward encounters I've had when the girl's family is in the living room and I'm trying to leave. I've found it best to escape through the window if she lives with her family. But that was so long ago when I first met Annie.

Oh no, Annie…

My heart lurches and I stop in the living room at the front door. I haven't slept with anyone in Four since I was with Annie. It's been over a year. Or, it was over a year. I've changed all of that in one night. We're not together but it feels exactly like cheating on her. She's the one I love, so how could I sleep with someone else? Because I was drunk? Because we're not together? Because I really am just a terrible person?

Guilt consumes me as I open the door and hope no one is outside. It's still fairly early, so I don't pass many people as I walk out of the girl's neighborhood. All I can think about is how I've cheated on Annie when she's no longer mine. Maybe that's the problem though. Yurol's made it very clear I have no place in Annie's life. And Annie's chosen Yurol. Perhaps I've always been the guy who screwed girls to help me cope with the rough patches in life. Annie did change me into a guy who fell in love, but with her gone now, it seems pointless to try and move on to find new love. I don't want to love anyone but her. But being alone is unbearable. So as I used to, I'll find comfort in meaningless girls—going back to the self-loathing that was suppressed, but never really left.

* * *

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

yeah, i went there...


	36. Chapter 36: Simply Understanding

**thank you to all my reviewers! the feedback and reviews are always appreciated because i love hearing what you guys have to say about anything i wrote about since it helps me as a writer. i'm doing my best to update, and i know it can be incredibly frustrating, so let me just say to all of you who have been sticking by my story, it seriously blows me away, and thank you soooo much! so, here's ch. 36, and find out if it's a happier ending than the last chapter, or if i still chose to go with the sad route...**

**enjoy =]**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Six: Simply Understanding**

_Finnick POV_

Another heave makes my stomach lurch, and I grip the side of the toilet as I throw up again. It's mostly yellow liquid since I've thrown up everything in me except my stomach acids, but even that's starting to empty from my body. A groan escapes my lips echoing into the bowl. It feels like death. Drinking to the point of pretty much self-poisoning. My insides are in excruciating pain, and you can literally feel the poison coursing through your entire body. I don't know how else to explain it. Except that in moments like these, a part of you wishes you were dead so that the agony would stop.

I dry heave for a bit, hoping I'll throw up even more because it brings a temporary relief, but nothing else comes out. Exhausted and a bit shaky, I slump to the floor and lean against the wall. It's too bright in here making my head and eyes hurt, but I don't have the energy to get up and turn the lights off. The bitter taste in my mouth makes my stomach lurch, but it's not strong enough to bring me to the toilet again. I really hate these moments where you know you'll be sick for the next several hours. I'd drink water, but I need to wait at least several minutes since I just drank half a cup and threw it up minutes later. Nothing will stay down, but I need to try and hydrate until I can keep the water down.

The hotel room door opens, closing with too loud of a _shut_, and I wince. Loud clicking crosses the marble floor, stopping when Cashmere leans against the doorframe. She's looking down at me, literally. "Pathetic." She says flatly—so she's probably looking down at me figuratively too.

"Go away." I mumble/slur.

"I knew you didn't look well." Cashmere comments ignoring me.

She bends down, sending the scent of her perfume into my nostrils, which makes me gag and lean forward for the toilet. There's no dignified way to have alcohol poisoning, so my loud wrenching fills the bathroom as my body shakes. I'm spitting up whatever I can when her hand is suddenly rubbing my back. I can't help but turn my head and look at her in questioning.

"_What_? I can be nice!" Cashmere snaps annoyed.

Before I can roll my eyes, the dry heaves overcome me, and I basically lean my head into the bowl as if this will somehow help more than if my head was further away. Finally this torture stops a few minutes later, and I just put my arms onto the seat and lean against the toilet. For now, this white porcelain inanimate object is my best friend. My only best friend actually. A fake friend. Literally fake. How sad am I?

Cashmere takes a seat next to me, her legs bent and out to the side since she's wearing a tight dark blue dress. Blonde curls flow over her shoulders spilling down the front and back. Tonight, or early this morning, she's wearing minimal makeup. Only a hint of light pink eye shadow, a thin line of eyeliner, and mascara. Her faint pink lips glisten in the light with a thin sheen of gloss. Light blue eyes focused on me.

I sigh and rest my head on my left arm. "You look nice."

This throws Cashmere off. She purses her lips, accessing if I'm being sarcastic. After a moment, she concludes I'm not. "Thanks." A faint smile. "You look terrible."

I weakly laugh. "I've heard that before."

"Well it's true." Cashmere says not unkindly.

"I'm sure it is." I sigh feeling my stomach churn.

She runs a hand over the fabric of her dress. "Normally you have a lot more self-control when drinking. What's going on?"

I swallow a little bit of bile which has risen up. "Why do you care?"

Cashmere faintly smiles. "I don't know if I do. But we're victors. Plus, it's a bit unnerving to watch you unravel. If you're not doing well, what does that say for the rest of us? You've always been the most composed."

"I don't know about that." I bitterly laugh. "I just hid it well."

"Exactly." She says.

My head throbs when I lift it to prop myself upright. The room isn't spinning, but it seems to be slightly shifting. Is this the life I want? Becoming a drunk like Haymitch and screwing countless girls. I really hate myself—more than I ever have in the past. The disgust and loathing I have is absolutely unbearable. Each day is a struggle, but the only way for me to get through it is by being drunk. And when I'm drunk, I want the comfort of another person. So I sleep with the girls. Here. In Four. I'm a whore.

I run a hand through my tangled hair. "I loss the girl I love." I tell Cashmere. "Nothing seems to matter."

Sadness shows in her eyes. "What happened?"

"I'm not good for her." I reply.

"She's alive?"

"Of course."

Cashmere leans forward and smacks me in the back of the head. "You made it sound like the Capitol killed her. If she's alive, win her back! It's very simple Finnick."

My head is throbbing and I want to strangle Cashmere for sending these new waves of pain throughout my brain. She's a victor, so she can handle herself. But I restrain myself from doing so. "It's not that simple Cashmere." I sneer. "Non-victors aren't allowed to know that we prostitute, so her sister doesn't understand why I sleep around. And Annie can't abandon her sister."

"Annie?" Cashmere quickly asks. Her eyes look upwards to the side, then back at me. "Your tribute who won?"

_Right, only Haymitch and Kenin know I love Annie._ Uncomfortably I clear my throat. "Don't say anything."

Cashmere laughs in disbelief. "That's the girl you love? The crazy girl who began talking to herself."

"Don't," I breathe very harshly, "call her crazy. She's not. We're all disturbed. Why can't she be more so than others?"

"I'm not saying she can't Finnick." Cashmere says irritably. "But c'mon. It's a bit strange she would talk to herself so publicly. And her breakdowns, I get it, but most of us do that in private."

"She's different. That's all." I defend.

Cashmere shrugs. "I'm not trying to say anything bad. It's just unexpected that she would be the girl you love."

I breathe in. "I love her. And we can't be together. End of story."

Cashmere studies my face. "Why did she volunteer? Does she know you love her?"

"That's why she volunteered. It destroyed her when she saw the screens of my Capitol stays." I rest my hands on my abdomen. "Annie understands now, but Kenin's sister doesn't."

"You're dating his sister?" Cashmere asks incredulously. "Didn't he say you were technically dating his sister? What does that even mean?"

This is a mess. Despite my drunken state, I try to explain it as best I can. "Annie is like family to the Denfezes, Kenin's family. So I was technically dating his sister. Yurol, Kenin's other sister, her boyfriend told them about the screens because Annie and Yurol didn't watch the screens. So when Annie saw me with other girls, it destroyed her. She volunteered, and we got back together because she knew the truth then. But Joln, her ex-boyfriend who volunteered to be with her, got beheaded, and then she lost it. We got back together, but Yurol who doesn't know about the prostitution, was going to leave Annie since Yurol couldn't understand why Annie would want to stay with me when it seems like I'm always cheating on her. Which I am, or was, whatever. So, Annie chose Yurol, and we're not together because Yurol can never know the truth."

The wide-eyed expression on Cashmere's face tells me I may have lost her somewhere along the way of explaining what's happened between Annie and I. Now that I've said it aloud, it does seem rather complex. Finally Cashmere relaxes her face. "It's all mixed up. Everyone involved. This person and that person, but you know what Finnick, the only people who should be involved are you and Annie."

"You don't understand. She can't abandon her family like that." I tell Cashmere.

"No." She snaps. "Yurol, her sister, or whoever, shouldn't be making decisions like this for Annie. She's the one who'd be abandoning Annie since she would leave if Annie stayed with you. That sounds like abandonment to me." Cashmere raises her hand, and emphatically points. "What you and Kenin need to do, is not tell Yurol the truth, but convince her that there are things she can't know for her own safety about how things are done in the Capitol. Which is why you sleep around, but you really do love Annie. And I mean convince her that you _really_ love Annie. And Annie, she knows the truth, so she can agree with you guys that things are different here, so you have to sleep around. Say that it's how you get sponsors, it's how you got people to help Annie, and you can't just throw away another person's life. Not when you knew there was something you could have done about it. So that's why you sleep around. Tell her that. If Kenin and Annie agree with you, Yurol should be more understanding. If she's not, then she's stupid."

Now my eyes are opened wide. I've never heard Cashmere speak so strongly on my behalf. "Why are you trying to help me?"

"I don't know Finnick." Cashmere says with exasperation. "I guess I'm a sucker for people in love. With what we've been through, it's the only thing we have going for us."

I lower my head. "I slept with someone back in Four again. I'm sure they've heard."

A painful _smack_ to my head is Cashmere's response. "Then stop sleeping around and beg for forgiveness! If Annie was with you despite your reputation, I'm sure she'll understand your whorish attitude. It's how we know how to cope. We shouldn't be judged for that."

"Stop smacking my head." I growl when she finishes. Cashmere rolls her eyes, and then I kindly say. "But thanks." She looks back at me. "Why didn't I know what to do?"

"Because you're a guy." Cashmere responds as if this is an obvious answer. "You're clueless." She laughs. "But I'm also an outside party. I have an unbiased perspective. With Gloss, it's not so easy to know what to do when we fight."

"Do you guys fight often?"

She shakes her head. "Not really. It's more of we're angry at the world and take it out on each other. We bicker more than anything. But it does for really good make-up-sex."

We begin laughing. I'm not sure who's more surprised she said that. Cashmere and I have never really been on good terms. But I guess that's starting to change. She came to my room to check on me, and ended up trying to help. Maybe she cares more than she let's on. And honestly, a part of me is starting to care too. Like she said, we're victors. We understand parts of each other's pain.

Cashmere shakes her head, and runs a hand along the bathroom floor tile. It's later into the night or morning, but she's here. Very quietly I ask. "Is Gloss with a client?"

The laughter dies, and I see the sadness. "Yes, he is. I know I do the same thing, but it kills me to know he's with another person. Guy or girl, I don't know. I don't ask. Our love life doesn't include them. So we don't talk about it."

"I'm sorry. I don't know how that feels." I say.

"How does Annie feel about your prostitution?" Cashmere curiously asks.

"Honestly, I think it bothered her, but not as much as it should have. She knows, or knew I love her, so she clung to that. Everything else is what comes with being a victor, and she understood what that meant. I mean, she understood there was a lot of baggage."

Cashmere thinks this over while stretching her legs and back. I'll admit, it is arousing except my body doesn't respond that way to anyone else now. She tilts her neck from side to side with faint _cracks_. "Maybe Gloss and I have something to learn from Annie. We know we love each other, we're both victors, and the prostitution doesn't mean anything to us. The people we sleep with don't matter, it's like you said, it's part of our baggage. We should let that part go. Not dwell on it. Know it, but not think much of it."

"I'm sure it isn't easy." I softly say.

"It isn't." Cashmere agrees. "But the Capitol people aren't worth our concern either."

"No." I respond. "No they're not."

I'm exhausted from all this talk. After continuously throwing up, even talking takes a lot of exertion. I rest against the toilet, and lean over again as I dry heave and spit out whatever I can. Cashmere gives a loud sigh before leaning forward to rub my back.

* * *

"Get up!" Someone roughly tells me while pulling the pillow out from beneath my head.

I'm staring at Kenin who has my pillow in his hand. A bit unsteadily, I sit up, wincing as my head throbs. "What's your problem?" I snap.

"Nothing." He snaps back. "It's past noon. We're leaving in an hour."

I snatch the pillow from his hand, and position it beneath my head again. "Then wake me up when we're actually leaving."

My eyes are closed when the pillow is abruptly yanked out from beneath, and my head falls to the couch cushion. This time Kenin is glaring at me. He holds my stare before throwing the pillow at my face. "I thought you loved Annie!"

The pillow hits the floor as I sit up and grip the cushions. "I do!"

"Then why are you sleeping around here for fun?" Kenin accuses in a loud voice.

I'm breathing heavily since I'm still hungover, my sleep has been interrupted, and because I hate myself. Kenin's party was only a few days ago, so there was no time for him to know I slept with someone else in Four if he didn't know when we came to the Capitol. So of course my newfound decision to sleep around here has come as a shock to him. He can tell the difference between my clients, stirring up the media, and being a whore.

Very softly, I answer. "I slept with someone after your party."

"What?" Kenin quietly breathes. He takes a seat on the table in front of me.

"I was so drunk, and at the time it seemed like a good idea. After, it was already done." I put my head in my hands. "They'll eventually hear about it, and it didn't seem like it would matter anymore. So yeah, I've been sleeping around here too."

There's a loud exasperated sigh. "Finnick…"

I raise my head. "Look, I know. It's bad. I've really screwed things up."

"Why do things keep getting more complicated?" Kenin asks aloud—not really to anyone in particular. "You and Annie are perfect together."

A bitter laugh escapes my lips. "Perfect? I don't think so. Everything I've done keeps screwing up her life. Before me, was her life this hard?" Kenin doesn't say anything, and I give another bitter laugh. "I thought so."

Kenin chews on his pinky nail for a few seconds. Then he looks up at me. "Her life has always been hard Finnick. Did things get a bit crazy when you two became involved? Sure. Maybe more so than most, but you both have very different circumstances compared to the regular person also. What you should be asking yourself is: Did you make Annie the happiest she's ever been in her life? Definitely."

"I've also made her the saddest she's ever been."

Before I can react, Kenin has reached out and smacked the side of my head. "That's only because of the mandatory secrecy. I'm talking about when it's only you two and nobody else is involved. The way you treat her, it's good for her."

With feigned disdain, I rub the side of my head. "You and Cashmere need to learn proper manners. It's not okay to go around smacking people." Kenin simply grins, and now I smile. "And thanks. I'll try to remember that. Do you think there's any way we could talk to Yurol and convince her to back off about me being with Annie? I talked to Cashmere about me telling Yurol it's how I get my tributes the sponsors they need, but I can't say if that will be enough."

A hint of mischief is in Kenin's eyes. "Well, I'm sure between the two of us we can figure something out."

* * *

_Annie POV_

When you're in so much pain that it feels impossible to do anything with your life—it's the worse feeling in the world. I've felt this debilitating pain when I saw Finnick on the screens with that girl, and every moment which followed from then. But now this is a different pain. I mean, how many ways can a person hurt with the same level of severity? You would think the pain wouldn't have so many endless forms.

I'm supposed to be out in the front, and I can feel Lance and Binsen watching me although my back is turned to them, but I just need a second to gather myself. Just a second… My hands grip the metal sink as I lower my head and inhale slowly. It's my first day back at the Shack because I can't stand to be cooped up in the house any longer. It's become unbearable. All of it has. I know Yurol and Joa are trying to be here for me. But a part of them doesn't understand and it makes me feel just so incredibly alone. There is no one for me to turn to. Nobody who can understand this utter defeat.

I breathe in again and straighten myself. It's time I went to the front. When I turn around, Lance and Binsen are focused on their work—scaling fish, boiling mussels, stirring a pot—but I know they're doing everything to look anywhere but here. I don't even bother to smile because they have too much respect to look up at me and see the great sadness which must be on my face. I'm grateful for this feigned ignorance.

In the front, a few tables are filled. One couple, and a group of girls. The girls are talking and as I approach, I catch their conversation.

"—definitely available again. He slept with my friend's friend."

"Really?" A brunette asks.

"Yeah, during Kenin's party, Finnick left with her. My friend said that her friend said that they slept together. So that means he's back on the market. Why are you looking at me like that?"

Her friend's eyes flicker to me, and the speaker turns around to look at me. All of the girls are staring, and I can see the shock in their eyes. Because what is the girl who went crazy doing here? How did I, the crazy girl, ever manage to land Finnick for a prolonged period of time when he has the habitual tendency to leave? Am I really that surprised he wasn't faithful to me the entire time because how could I have not seen what was going on in the screens? Did I really think I was so special just because Finnick stayed with me rather than leaving immediately afterwards?

One of the girls finally breaks the silence and remarks. "Well, it was going to happen sooner or later."

I'm walking out of the Shack before any of them can say something else. Because I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear how I'm the crazy girl and feel their whispers behind my ears. I don't want to hear any comments about Finnick from girls who don't know him like how I do. I don't want to hear how he slept around because nobody forced his hand this time. He did it out of absolute free will. And I understand it's how he copes. He loves me, yes, and it's how he deals with our situation. But it doesn't mean I want to hear it.

Though my eyes don't wander from looking straight ahead as I walk the road towards the beach, I see the glances from the people around me. Their covered whispers and wide eyes. It's one of the rare times people have seen me outside ever since I returned to Four in a state of madness. There goes the girl who volunteered because she believed Finnick was faithful. There goes the girl whose ex-boyfriend volunteered to be with her and he got beheaded. There goes the girl who began talking to herself while she hid in a tree. There goes the girl who nearly let herself starve to death. There goes the girl. There goes the girl. There goes the girl. Isn't it just sad? Isn't she so pathetic? I feel awful for her. Poor thing, it must be so hard.

I hate their pity.

I'm not as strong as the other victors so I don't hide the crazy as well as they do. But for what I've been through, shouldn't I be allowed to be crazy? Shouldn't I be allowed to be a little different without being called crazy? And even if I am crazy, it's only because I'm weaker. Aren't I allowed to be weak? My soul simply cannot handle a lot of stress. That's all there is to it. But they don't give me this courtesy.

The sandy gravel drags beneath my feet, and gust of salty air blows the hair from my face. It's bright so I have to squint a bit, but I know where I'm heading. I can almost see every track I've ever made along the way to this route. The occasional flowers that sprout along the strips of grass. All the unmoving rocks which have remained in the same place for countless years. It all looks the same, but with the effects of time the slight changes are here, only not evident.

From the edge of the cliff where I take a seat, I see all the boats. Same boats, different locations. Same ocean, different waves. I don't want to be here anymore. Maybe if I were somewhere else, I'd have a chance at starting a new life without Finnick. But here, it's impossible. Everything reminds me of him, and how can you escape that sort of influence? If you stay in the same place, starting over is nearly impossible. To change, you need at least some kind of change to happen. I think so.

A young woman, with black hair and sad green eyes, takes a seat next to me. "What happened in the Shack?"

"I found out Finnick slept with somebody after Kenin's party." I reply as I stare out at the ocean's horizon.

"That surprises you?" Yurol asks as gently as she can.

I take her hand in mine and give it a squeeze. "Yurol, humor me and think about it. When was the last time you heard about Finnick sleeping with another girl in Four when he and I became involved?"

She turns to me. "Why are you asking this?"

"Just think about it, Yurol. Please." I say.

Yurol sighs and stares at the horizon. I can feel her thoroughly sorting through her memories for any indications that Finnick slept around in Four when we were together. Finally she responds. "Honestly, I can't. It was all before you and him."

I nod. "Exactly. It was only in the Capitol."

She shakes her head. "I know you love him, but the rules don't just change to make it okay that he cheats on you there."

"But they do." I softly whisper. "I'm not trying to fight, but you even asked me yourself about what's changed since the first time I saw Finnick on the screens with that girl until now. Isn't it possible that after being reaped I learned some things which caused me to change my mind? Isn't it possible that there are different rules there than here?"

"Like what?" Yurol asks desperately trying to understand. "What can possibly make being unfaithful, okay?"

It's a great risk, but I'm so tired of not having Finnick with me when we should be together. In the thin layer of sand and rocks, I write.

_Capitol ears here. F = prostitute._

Yurol's eyes widen, and I raise a finger to my lips. I point to her, then make a slitting action across my throat, and raise a finger to my lips again.

Very casually I say. "For my sake, can't you just trust that Finnick and I love each other and there has to be a very good reason why I would stay with him when he sleeps around only in the Capitol."

The expression on Yurol's face tells me that she's trying to keep her voice steady. "Maybe. But why did he sleep around here now?"

"Because, it's how most of the victors deal with their pain. Finnick slept around before we got together, he's doing it again now. It doesn't mean he doesn't love me. It just means that he's lonely." I tell her. Hopefully this will be good enough reason for her.

Yurol silently sheds a tear. "I love you, you know? I'm only trying to look out for you. It's all I've been trying to do. If you really believe he loves you, I'll trust you."

"Thank you." I whisper and my heart feels a little bit lighter. Maybe I could have tried to tell her this entire time. But I feel like all the other times would have been the wrong time. Emotions were too high and there was too much going on. Now was the right time. I only hope Finnick will want to be with me.

With a shaky finger, Yurol wipes out the _F_ and replaces it with a _K. _Her eyebrows rise as the question. I see the fear and dread in her eyes as she waits for my answer. And she begins to silently cry harder as I give a small nod. I hold Yurol in my arms as we stare out to the horizon and let the tears fall.

* * *

I'm waiting on Finnick's porch because he and Kenin will be back any minute. There is something I want to know, and I think I know Finnick well enough to predict how he will respond, but I have to be sure. Maybe it's an unrealistic expectation, but we're both victors so there's no longer any need for secrecy. And what I want to know doesn't require that I be a victor.

Two figures enter the neighborhood and I immediately turn my head in their direction. By their gait, I instantly know it's my beautiful boy and Kenin. They're talking to each other, occasionally laughing. It's good to see Finnick smiling. I'm glad Kenin's been his friend through this entire ordeal. Finnick is saying something, and he glances in my direction, then back at Kenin, and then his head almost snaps to his porch. He stops walking, and stares at me. Kenin follows his gaze, and I see the quizzical expression form in his eyebrows.

At Kenin's urging, Finnick slowly begins to walk again, and then he begins to jog. In moments, he's running up to his porch stairs and is standing before me on the ground while I stand on the second porch stair. "Annie, is everything alright? What are you doing here?"

I look over my beautiful boy. The unruly bronze hair, golden skin, thick muscles, black shirt, dark brown pants, piercing sea green eyes, full lips. His chest falls and rises as he waits for me to say something. Always waiting. So patiently. Never rushing me in any way. We're about the same height since I'm on the second stair. I see the tendons in his neck, and I tentavily reach out to trace them.

My fingers spread apart as I move my hands downwards; my thumbs are resting on Finnick's clavicles while my other fingers wrap around the inner area of his shoulders. Very quietly, I say. "I love you."

The shock on Finnick's face fills me with confidence because it tells me I still have this effect on him. Before he can say anything, I lean forward and softly press my lips to his. His body instantly tenses, and I don't move so I can give Finnick time to comprehend what I am doing. It takes but a few seconds until his arms are around my body pulling me closer. My hands move to his hair, and I let our lips flow in a synchronized rhythm that we both know so well. The soft flesh of my lips are extremely sensitive allowing me to feel the deepness of our kiss. The tenderness and passion. The ache and the healing. It's been too long since we've both had a kiss like this.

Desperately, Finnick holds onto the kiss before pulling away and putting his forehead to mine. He whispers in a tormented voice. "This isn't right. What about Yurol?"

I stroke his jaw with my thumb. "I talked to her. Convinced her things are different in the Capitol. She's backing off." Silently I mouth, _prostitution,_ so he knows I actually told Yurol the truth.

Finnick's jaw tightens as he fights an internal debate. His mouth wins. "I've been sleeping around."

"I know." I softly reply.

He shakes his forehead, rolling it across mine. "You don't understand. Not just in the Capitol. But in Four. During Kenin's party, I left with a girl and we had sex." Finnick lets out a sigh, and he pulls his head back. There's tears in his eyes. "I'm so sorry Annie. It's not an excuse, but I was so drunk, and it shouldn't have happened, but I did it. And then I did it more in the Capitol. You deserve to know this. I am so sorry."

I take Finnick's sad face in my hands. "Finnick, I know about the girl in Four. And if you slept with more people in the Capitol, so what? I'm not saying I'm happy, but I get it. I understand you. Whatever helps you cope, right? It helped you cope, but now you know I'm here. We're here. So, so what?"

Finnick bites his lower lip, and presses his forehead to mine. "I love you so much."

"I love you too." I whisper back.

* * *

Finnick's hand grips mine squeezing it with such intensity that my hand begins to ache. But I don't care, he's mine, we're together, that's all I care about. My back arches as my wrapped legs pull Finnick in, and an unsuppressed moan flows from my vocal chords. Several shorter cries follow, and I grip Finnick's slippery hand. His slick biceps shine in the sunlight, and I can see the beads of sweat clinging to Finnick's skin. His bronze hair is slightly darker and damp, and he strokes my cheek with his other hand.

I can feel the sweat between our touching chests, and Finnick's heart is racing. Mines must be too because I can feel it pounding against my ribcage. He's being very gentle and careful to shift most of his weight onto the bed since my body frame is still rather frail. Honestly, it kind of hurts because my body is still recovering from the malnutrition, and my bones are digging into Finnick, but the pleasure overwhelms the pain. The pain is tolerable, and the pleasure is desirable. But I'm glad he's taken into consideration my physical health.

My wrist gives a soft _pop_, and Finnick instantly raises his head to look at our entwined hands. He releases our hands, and presses his into the bed. I raise my freed hand to Finnick's face. "I'm fine Finnick." I heavily breathe. "Better even. Don't worry."

His sea green eyes never leave my face. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." I whisper.

Finnick puts his forearm on the bed and lowers his body. My eyes close as he presses his lips to mine, and I let the feel consume me. He's everywhere. Around me, in me, deep in my muscles, all the way down to my toes and all the way up to my fingertips. My head is flooded with euphoria and I feel like I'm floating in the air without the laws of gravity. It's out of this world. Lost so deep in this state of mind, I don't know where or how to come down.

The intensity increases and Finnick presses his face to my chest as he lets out a loud groan, and I hold my hands to the back of his neck. We both finish at the same time, and hold onto to each other as our hearts beat so quickly it's near impossible to catch our breath. I'm inhaling a lungful of air, one after the other, while Finnick's breathing hisses between his clenched teeth. I stroke my fingers along his back, and I feel his fingers at the base of my throat.

Eventually our breathing slows, and I lie on the bed with Finnick on top of me. Every inch of me aches, in a good way, and I feel myself slowly coming down from the gravity-free zone. Finnick kisses my throat, and rolls onto his right side to relieve his weight, so I roll onto my side to look at him. He holds me close, his left arm around my side.

Finnick leans up to kiss my forehead. "I can't believe you're here."

I just smile because I know there's more he wants to say.

He pushes my damp hair to the side of my face. "This has to be it. We're finally together again. I'll never do anything to separate us."

"I hope not." I whisper. "I always want to be with you."

"I love you Annie Cresta." Finnick adamantly says. "I'm never leaving you."

A part of me wants to whisper, _Never say never._ But that's just bad luck, isn't it? Or is it the: saying never part? It doesn't matter because for now, I'm here with Finnick Odair. "I'll never leave you Finnick. Never again. I love you."

I gently kiss him on the lips, and I run my fingers along his back. Finnick kisses me, letting his hands wander over my body. When his hands press against my hipbone, I slightly wince since the adrenaline has worn off. He pulls back and looks me in the eye. "Are you hurt?"

"It's fine." I tell him. "I just need to gain more weight."

Finnick grins and kisses my nose. "Then let's get started on that." He sits up, and pulls me upright too. "I'm famished, are you?"

I grin and roll my eyes. "Way to kill the moment."

He gives a hearty laugh and wraps his arms around me. "You know you love me anyways." Finnick presses his face into my neck causing us to fall back onto the bed. I'm laughing as Finnick plants kisses all over my face and upper torso. "We should really eat, or we never will. I'll just stay in bed with you all day."

"That doesn't sound so bad." I giddily comment.

"It doesn't." Finnick breathes into my throat. And then he's sitting upright again, pulling me with him. "But after we eat. After all, I am somewhat of a chef myself."

"Fine." I surrender. "Let's cook and eat."

I get off the bed, and begin walking out the door when Finnick calls. "Annie."

I turn around. "Yeah?"

He holds up my shirt and pants. "Don't you want your clothes?"

"Nope." I simply say and turn to walk down the stairs, but not before seeing the semi-shocked expression on Finnick's face. I hear him get off the bed, and run down the stairs until his arms are around me, and he forces me to walk in an awkward position as he puts his weight behind me.

Finnick kisses my shoulder, and let's me go since I'm somewhat stumbling. He takes my hand as we walk into the kitchen. "I've never walked around naked with someone so blatantly before."

I kiss his triceps. "It's nice."

"Yes it is." He grins opening the fridge door. "We should do this more often."

"Having sex?" I ask.

"Making love." Finnick corrects with a smile. "And yes, that too. But I was actually talking about cooking naked." He raises an eyebrow. "You're rather aggressive aren't you?"

His comment makes me blush. "I am not."

Finnick leans down and kisses me. "I'm teasing. Either way, I love you."

I blink and put my hands to his chest. "I love you too."

We stare into each other's eyes, and I can feel Finnick's heartbeat increase. Finally he groans and kisses me cheek. "Stop trying to seduce me, I'm serious about cooking us some food so we can eat."

"Fine." I say with feigned exasperation. "Cook us some food."

I know a part of Finnick wants me to know he's not only interested in sex or making love—his history will always have some underlying insecurity about me believing he loves me—but a part of him is also worried about the substantial amount of weight I've loss, and haven't quite begun to put back on. I mean, I've been eating, I just haven't been hungry since I got better. But things are different now. I should have more of an appetite.

Finnick takes out some fish, mussels, seaweed, shrimp, crab, squid, vegetables, and a bunch of other things. He sets them on the island counter, and grabs a pan from beneath the sink. "I will be making a sautéed seafood dish. Not much fat so it'll be easy on your stomach, but enough food to start plumping you up."

"You make it sound so attractive." I laugh.

He sets the pan on the warming stove and comes back over to me. "You're beautiful. I'm concerned about your health."

I run my fingers across his hard abdomen. "I know. And I appreciate it."

Finnick just smiles and kisses the side of my head. "You're always beautiful. And I love kissing you everywhere."

"Why Finnick," I tease as he opens up containers and unwraps some of the food, "you're quite the flirt."

"Only to you." He winks and tosses some vegetables into the pan.

Finnick grabs a bottle of dark brown sauce, and pours it into the pan temporarily muting the _sizzling_ noise. He puts in the fish, mussels, squid, and whatever else. Soon the _sizzling_ noise returns, and I watch the smoke begin to rise from the pan. Overhead, Finnick pushes a button and the stove fan comes on clearing some of the smoke. The smell is incredible, and my mouth begins to salivate. I can almost taste the different flavors within the dish he's creating. Then suddenly, Finnick jumps back slightly knocking the pan to the side.

He jumps back again, and grabs a tiny dishrag. "Maybe cooking naked isn't the smartest idea."

I begin to laugh because I understand what we didn't think through. He has very little protection from the _sizzling_ splatters. I walk over to Finnick's side and see that he's covering his groin with the tiny rag. "Nice. Covering the most important part of your body?"

"It is important." Finnick playfully defends. "You'll agree if I can't use it."

I whack his arm and laugh. "You would say something like that."

"Yes I would." He grins back. Then he winces and jerks his arm back. "This was a terrible idea."

"It was your idea." I tell him.

There's a small _pop_ and Finnick rubs his chest letting the rag fall since he stirring the food with his other hand. "Can you do me a favor and get me a towel or something? I'm not too keen on getting scalded to death."

I pick up the rag and hold it over his groin. "Gotta protect the area I like." I tease. Finnick smiles, and holds the rag up again. I back away to look in his downstairs closet. "I'll get you a towel."

"Thanks." He says.

"Of course."

I exit the kitchen and head towards Finnick's closet beneath the stairs. Inside are several blankets, but no towels. The towels are probably upstairs in his bathroom closet. I grab a thick blanket and close the door. The fabric feels nice against my bare skin. I let it drag against the floor as I walk the few feet between me and the kitchen. Right now, I'm the happiest I've been in awhile. Since my games.

_Annie._ A voice whispers from upstairs.

I drop the blanket in front of the kitchen. Finnick is focused on stirring the pan so it couldn't have been him. Then who was it? I look at the blanket lying on the floor, and see the several folds of fabric. I'm frozen and can't say anything. The white marble with colorful swirls in it are beneath the blanket. The blanket is a dark blue with no embroidery. I am standing in Finnick's house. The house he won from his game. I won a house from my game.

_Annie._

Immediately I turn on my heels and bolt up the stairs. I look in the bathroom but no one is in there. _Who is here?_

_It's me Annie._

_I cut off his head and hid it somewhere._ A girly voice laughs. _You'll never find it because it washed away in the flood when I threw it at you._

The voices are coming from Finnick's room! I run into his room and throw the door open. It's empty. His sheets are ruffled just the way we left them. Pillows on the floor. Sunlight flooding through the window. Nothing on his dresser. My naked almost skeleton of a body reflected in the mirror. _They were in here, I know it._

_So this is how you survived? _A guy's voice snarls. _You screwed your way into survival. I should have been victor. If Finnick hadn't gotten them to flood the arena, I wouldn't have drowned and I would have won! Did you forget how he tried to drown you? He tried to kill you!_

"No." I whisper. "No, he loves me. He knew I wouldn't let myself drown. Finnick wouldn't try to kill me."

_Oh but he did. _A girl's voice cackles like fire. _How could he have been sure you wouldn't drown? He wanted you to die!_

Emerald's voice begins to sing a terrible taunt.

_Where did his head go? _

_This you will never know _

_Let me tell you a secret _

_Only if you promise to keep it _

_It's locked away _

_That is where it will stay _

_Hidden from sight _

_Find it if you might_

_Is it in the drawer?_

_Or behind the door?_

_I cut of his head_

_Hid it beneath the bed_

I drop to all fours and look beneath the bed, but there's nothing there. I scramble to the door and close it, but there's nothing there either. There's only one other place to look that the song told me, so I begin to rapidly look through Finnick's drawers. Shirts. Pants. Boxers. Socks. More shirts! Pants! Shirts again! _Where is Joln's head!_

* * *

_Finnick POV_

There's a scuffling noise in my room, and what I think is the sound of drawers rapidly opening and closing. Annie had been awhile in getting me a towel, and when I saw the blanket on the floor, I immediately knew something was wrong. I'd stopped what I was doing, ran up the stairs, and am now opening the door to my bedroom. Annie jumps in terror when I step into the room, and there's a beyond frightened look screaming in her eyes.

"It's in here somewhere!" She nearly screams. "I know it is!" Annie yanks open another drawer holding my ties, and slams it shut. She opens the bottom drawer beneath, and finds a few of my most valuable pocessions. Right before she slams the drawer shut, Annie looks in it again, and stops moving. "It has to be in here. But this is the last drawer. And, and, what is all this?"

Very calmly, I walk over to Annie and crouch down, putting an arm around her shaking body. "These are the few personal things I have." I gently put my hand beneath her chin, and force her to look at me. "What are you looking for?"

She begins to sob, crumpling to the floor, not bothering to sit upright. "Joln's head. They told me it was in here. Why am I hearing these voices Finnick?" I take a seat, and run my hand over her side feeling each rib beneath—my attempt to soothe her. Annie reaches up, and grips my hand. Her voice is barely a whisper. "Did you try to kill me? That's what they said. And I told them you loved me, but they're confusing me."

"No." I fiercely whisper. "I would never have told them to flood the arena if I didn't think you could win. I do love you Annie."

"I knew it." She whispers back staring at my opened drawer. "They were wrong. Everyone was."

I lie down next to her, and put my face in front of hers. "Annie, look at me." Her eyes flicker to mine. "They're not real. It's in your head. It happens to all of us. But this is real. Us. Not them."

Annie begins to furiously nod as tears drip sideways off the bridge of her nose. "Okay. Okay." She touches my face with her hand. "You're real. They're not. You love me. And I love you."

"Yes." I softly say.

Her eyes close as more tears spill from her shut eyes, and all I can do is lie next to Annie with my arms around her. She breathes in with that wet congested sound, and gently exhales from her lips. Little by little the shaking stops, but her eyes open in terror when a loud beeping begins to echo throughout my house. I put my hand to her face. "It's only the alarm. I need to get the food off the stove. I'll be right back. Okay? You're safe, I promise."

Annie frantically searches my face, and then nods in belief. I lean over and kiss her cheek. This seems to calm her, but she doesn't respond or move. I get to my feet, and pull my sheet off the bed to drape it over her body. There's a pillow next to Annie's head, so I pull it her way, and she lifts her head onto it. Then I'm out of the room, running down the stairs and into my kitchen. It's extremely smoky in here, so I open the windows and dump the pan in the sink. For a moment the smoke is amplified by the water I turn on, but as I wave around the blanket the smoke slowly dissipates out the window. Finally my fire alarm goes off, and I rush back up the stairs.

I find Annie sitting upright, the bed sheet wrapped around her shoulders. She's leaning over my drawer and looking at the contents inside. It's not that I mind her looking, everything I have is hers, but I feel a pang of something because I feel extremely vulnerable. There isn't much inside: an old, dried teabag; broken shards of glass and a small boat mast; a black journal; and a piece of rope. Trash to any other person, but remnants of what's been important in my life.

Only when I take a seat next to Annie, does she turn to me. "What is this?"

"My pocessions." I reply.

"I know, you said that." Annie says turning back to the drawer. "But what are they?"

I put a hand on her thigh and look inside too. The tea bag is yellow and well aged. The broken shards of glass are pushed to the corner with the boat mast lying on top. The journal is in the bottom left corner, no longer collecting dust. And the rope is lying next to the tea bag in the center. I see these things nearly every day, but their importance is still as strong as ever.

I kiss Annie's shoulder through the sheet before explaining. "When I crawled to Mags' home after being driven mad from the voices, she made me a cup of tea. She sat with me all night, and I remember gripping the cup as if it was some kind of lifesaver. It was the only thing I had to hold onto. It was the first thing anyone had made for me. So I took the bag and kept it."

Annie smiles, and points to the rope. "And that?"

A bit uncomfortably I clear my throat. "Let me start off and say, I know it's a bit morbid. It's the rope Kenin used to trick Sally into taking the wrong bag. And I know it caused a person's death, my own girl tribute, but Kenin kept it. He pretended that it was his token from home, and it helped him win. After everything it did for him, he couldn't part with it. But eventually it became too much, all the memories, and knowing that it's how he was able to kill Sally. So he gave it to me. He told me, he couldn't throw it away, so he wanted me to have it and I could decide what to do with it. I'm only keeping it because it's an object that Kenin gave to me."

"I understand." Annie softly comments and she kisses my bare shoulder. "What's the journal?"

"It's the only thing I had before the community homes. Which means it came from my actual home. I have nothing else from that life." I say.

Annie looks at the broken glass and small mast, then looks at it again. Her voice hitches. "Is that?"

I nod. "It is."

"How did you get it?" She breathes.

"Remember, I had Yurol give me the broken shards she got from my back." I tell Annie. "I tried to look for the rest, but somebody had swept it up and I couldn't find where they disposed of it. I think I found the mast, at least it was where the glass bottle broke. So I'm assuming it is the boat's mast. I'm not really sure though, to be honest."

Annie turns to me with a forming smile. "I can't believe you kept the broken pieces."

I smile and kiss her forehead. "It's not the whole bottle or boat, but it's parts of it. And for me, that's better than nothing. It's the first real gift I ever received. I couldn't let it go so easily."

She smiles and briefly presses her lips to mine. "I'm touched you kept it after all this time."

"I had to. You're the only girl I've ever loved." I tell her.

The sheet falls from Annie's shoulders as she gets to her feet, bends down to kiss me one more time, and then helps me up. She looks at our reflection in the mirror, and I do too. Next to me, Annie's body looks painfully skinny. Faint bruises are appearing on my skin from where her bones dug into me. Her hands trace the bruises and she laughs. "Who would have thought I'd be the one to give you bruises?"

I laugh and continue looking at our reflection. "We'll work on changing that."

Her head turns, so I look back down at her. Annie presses her hands to my chest. "I ruined our food, didn't I?"

I shrug. "Don't worry. We can go out to eat. If you want."

Very innocently, but so damn seductively, Annie kisses my right pectoral. "We can eat out. It'll be nice to walk around. I've been inside homes for too long anyways."

"Then we should put some clothes on. As much as I would love to walk around naked with you, I think that's best done in the privacy of my home." I tell her.

"Too bad." Annie mutters with a smile.

She kisses my chest again, which obviously doesn't help me control my body, so then Annie eyes me suggestively when there's a slight amount of activity. I shake my head. "This, right here, is your fault. But, I am still intent on getting some food into our system."

Annie just laughs and begins pulling on her underwear. "I know, I think I need some food before any other strenuous exercise. I'm rather famished myself now." As if on cue, her stomach begins to growl, and she bursts out laughing. "See?"

I grin and pull on my boxers. "We definitely need to eat."

She pulls on some flowy pants and tightens the string, and pulls on her shirt with no bra. I can't help but raise an eyebrow. Annie blushes. "What? You didn't realize I wasn't wearing a bra before?"

"Well now that I think about it. I know you didn't before bed, but I didn't realize it was a daily thing now." I admit.

"C'mon Finnick." Annie says. "I'm still as flat as a wall. There's hardly anything there."

I pull my shirt over my head, and pull her close to me. "You're still beautiful. And I love you the way you are."

"Yet you're trying to make me gain weight?" She teases, and before I can protest, Annie simply kisses me. "I'm kidding. I know it's a health issue. The bonus is I'll have more breasts when I gain weight. Hopefully."

"Honestly," I tell her, "if they came back or not, it wouldn't matter to me."

Annie smiles. "Almost corny because it's so sweet, but it's still sweet nevertheless."

I laugh and put an arm around her so we can begin walking out of my room and down the stairs. "I'm glad you think so."

* * *

_Annie POV_

Braless, and with Finnick by my side, I walk down his front porch and onto the road. We're passing Kenin's house when the front door opens and Yurol steps out. For a moment, it seems like she's going to turn back and go inside as if that'll erase the fact we've seen her, but then she decides against it and closes the door behind her. We've stopped in front of the porch, and Yurol walks down.

She's not looking at us, but she finally raises her eyes. "Are you guys heading out?"

"Yeah." I say. "I made Finnick burn our lunch."

"I know. I was drinking some water when I saw him waving around a blanket while in the nude." Yurol almost playfully comments.

Finnick _coughs_ and tightens his grip around me. I laugh. "We should probably close the windows or something."

"Probably." Yurol says.

"We probably won't." I honestly reply.

Yurol laughs and just shakes her head. "If I see you two in the window, I'll look away then."

I grin. "Good choice."

She does everything but look at Finnick, and the following silence becomes a bit awkward. Finally Yurol asks. "Can I walk with you guys? I'm going to the market to get food."

And as usual, I'm reminded of why I love Finnick because he responds. "Of course. Maybe it would be a good idea if we all get food from there. Have you eaten yet?"

"No." Yurol shakes her head. "I haven't."

"Alright then, let's head that way." Finnick cheerfully says breaking the tension.

"Finnick," Yurol interjects, "I'm trusting Annie that things are different in the Capitol. So as long as she's happy, that's all I care about." Silently she mouths—with a great amount of guilt and shame in her eyes: _I am so sorry._

She audibly said what we've been saying aloud, that things are different and she believes me, but now Yurol is telling Finnick she knows the truth about his prostitution. And he knows I told her about it. I feel Finnick slightly tense in surprise at Yurol's sincere apology, and he holds her gaze. He nods in acceptance, and then says aloud. "That's all I've always cared about too."

Yurol faintly smiles and nods. "I understand." She inhales. "Should we get going?"

My stomach growls. "I think so."

We all begin to laugh and head out of the Victors' Village. I've gotten so used to the stares from people that I hardly notice it while I talk with Yurol. "Have you seen Cameron since you guys broke up?"

"No." She softly replies. "It's been almost three months."

"You didn't really break up with him because he told us about the screens, did you?" I ask.

Yurol shakes her head. "I lied."

I take her hand. "Why?"

"Because if you'd died in your game, I don't know what I would have done. Of course I would have lived for Kenin and Joa, but I couldn't do it for anyone else. Not even for him. I wouldn't be able to deal with having him there while I mourned." Yurol tells me. "And if you won, which you did, I wanted to be there for you every moment. Considering what you were going through, and were going to go through, I knew you would need someone there. I couldn't have him in my life either way. So on the second day of your game, I lied to him, and he left."

"I'm so sorry Yurol." I softly say.

She shakes her head and fiercely holds my gaze. "You don't get to be sorry. It was my decision, and I stand by it. You're my sister, I would do anything for you."

I sigh and look at the surrounding shops. "I've been so selfish."

"No, you were staying away from Finnick because you thought I'd leave you. You were doing anything for me too. Even if it meant not being with him." Yurol replies. "It's not something easily done."

Finnick tenses and I know he hasn't thought about the fact that I chose Yurol over him until now. He understands it, but not entirely. When we're alone, I'll bring this up. I look at the window of a fabric store and see beautiful drapes hanging in the windows. Next to the fabric store, is the Sweet Shop, and grimy handprints and smudges spot the window from where little kids have pressed their hands and faces into the glass. These shops line a gravel road—the main path in town. It feels like I've walked this way so few times compared to my previous daily routines.

I squeeze Finnick's hand and tell Yurol. "You should talk to Cameron. Tell him the truth."

She shrugs. "I'm not sure if it would do any good. We're over."

Unexpectedly, Finnick speaks up. "So were we, but you know, the truth is a powerful thing. Annie lied to me and told me she blamed me for uh," he stumbles on his words and looks at me because I know what he's going to say, and I give him a nod to continue, "for what happened to Joln. But it was because she didn't want me to help her while she got better. Not a good excuse because I always wanted to be there for her," Finnick teases and kisses the side of my head, "but I understood her reason. Cameron loved you, you should at least give him the chance to understand."

Yurol just raises her eyebrows and smiles. "When did you become so smart at relationships?"

"Ah, there's the venom again." Finnick jokes. "I love being insulted. But to answer your question, you can thank Annie. She makes me a better person."

"Corny." Yurol sarcastically says with a smirk.

"Right?" I laugh. "I was just thinking the same thing."

We burst out laughing and Finnick pretends to pout. "Fine, whatever. I won't help anymore, see if I care." This makes us laugh harder and eventually Finnick surrenders and joins in. "I'll never catch a break with either of you."

Yurol agrees with Finnick for once. "You're absolutely right."

We arrive at the market shortly later, and right when we get there Finnick takes off. "I need to check on something…"

He disappears in the crowd of people, and Yurol turns to me. "Why did that sound like a horribly disguised lie?"

I move to the side and stand next to a stall selling dried starfish. "Because he didn't try to hide it. Finnick probably has something he doesn't want to show us until later."

"I trust him." Yurol says looking over an orange starfish. She looks at the vendor and blatantly says. "These are disgusting."

The vendor shoots us death stares so we move away and wander around. I stop at a stall selling pieces of sea glass. There's an assortment of colors, good for making jewelry or art projects. I turn a smooth, pink shard over in my hands. "Are you going to talk to Cameron? I think you should."

Yurol is at the next stall with paper-sea-animal lights laid out on the typical wooden planks which are placed on top of a huge wooden box. She runs a finger over a seahorse light. "I broke his heart Annie. He was so patient, and afraid that if we made love, he wouldn't be able to stand the thought of losing me. And he did. I pushed him away."

"Wait, you guys had sex?" I whisper. But I see the vendor of the lights listening, and I can't help but remark. "Pervert." He shrugs and we move away once again. Now we're standing next to decorated seashells. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Annie," Yurol sadly smiles, "this was after the Victory Tour when you saw Finnick on the screens. How could I have told you? I know you love me, but I think it would have only made you sadder. You were barely talking to anyone, it didn't feel right to tell you that."

"I didn't even think about you." I softly say. "I am so sorry."

In her very sisterly voice, Yurol shakes her head. "You've had a lot going on. You were dealing with things the best you could, I understand. Stop apologizing, it just makes me feel worse. I was so adamant about you not being with Finnick, I didn't even stop to consider your happiness."

I shrug and look around. "There's a lot going on everywhere."

"Yes there is." Yurol agrees. The market is rather busy, and several people glance our way since I'm the crazy girl who might possibly lose it at any moment. Even the various vendors steal glances at me. From behind the hanging dried fish strips, around glass vases perched on the planks, through the beautiful fabrics. There's a snort of disgust from Yurol. "How do you stand it? All their stares, I should call them out."

"Please don't. Then they'll think I'm the crazy girl with the crazy best friend." I laugh.

Yurol somewhat gapes at me. "Annie! How can you talk like that?"

I just wave my hand dismissively. "They're all thinking it. I don't care. Everyone I love is in my life, I'm happy."

A bit agitatedly, Yurol takes my hand and leads me away. "I want to go somewhere else where people aren't so _rude_." We're walking past a glass tank filled with beautiful fish and colorful coral, when somebody walks into us. Annoyed, Yurol snaps. "Watch it."

"_You_ watch it." An attractive blonde with bright blue eye spats. Then she looks at me. "Hey, you're Annie. The victor."

I turn to the tank and watch the fish swim. "I am." A blue fish with a black mark encircling a blue circle and a yellow tail, swims along the surface and then down to some white coral. A baby parrotfish is chewing on purple coral causing bits of it to break off and join the sand beneath.

The blonde's faint reflection in the glass begins to speak again. "I feel like I should tell you now since you'll probably hear about it, and I'm sure Finnick will come back for more, but we're kind of together now."

"What?" I hear Yurol scoff in disbelief. Which is a good sign because Yurol hasn't assumed Finnick is a lying cheater.

"Are you a part of this conversation?" The blonde snaps.

"Well I am her sister." Yurol retorts.

I turn around and shake my head. "It's fine Yurol." I give my attention to the blonde. "You were saying."

The blonde clears her throat and tears her hateful glare from Yurol. "All I'm saying is that Finnick was with me the night of Kenin's party, so we're like, together now."

"Did Finnick actually say that?" I ask in an almost bored voice.

"No, but he doesn't have to. I just wanted to extend the common courtesy of letting you know so you don't hear about it from other people." The blonde says as if this is actually what she's trying to do.

"Well thanks so much." I reply with obviously fake sincerity. "But until Finnick actually says that, I can't believe you because he's with me."

A loud smirk is the blonde's response. "Wow, you really are delusional aren't you?"

Before any of us see it coming, Yurol's fist is suddenly plummeting into the blonde's face with an incredibly loud _smack_! I feel my mouth drop, and the sudden following silence in the area around us just screams. People are gaping, as I am, staring at Yurol in shock. She's always been known to be nice and timid, sometimes a bit too blunt, but pretty much harmless by nature. Not many people have seen how many times she's slapped Finnick, well except when she did it after my return home, but that's besides the point. I think I'm still in shock at what just happened. Basically, this violent nature from Yurol is a shock to everyone.

The blonde is on the ground sobbing and several of her friends come over and crouch down to help her, so we immediately decide this is the time to leave. Peacekeepers tend to not care about what goes on between Four citizens, but we're not about to start a showdown in the middle of the market. I'm in no condition to fight, and Yurol, well, after what happened, I can't speak for her. Anyways, we need to leave.

Yurol and I turn around only to see Finnick staring at Yurol in shock, with an even more surprised Cameron at his side. Now Yurol's mouth drops, and I grab her arm so we can seriously get out of here. We rush past the people staring at us, and push through the crowd with Finnick and Cameron following behind. As we get further away from the scene, the noisier it gets since the people here are unaware of what just happened. We take some turns around stalls selling food, and stop in front of a noodle stall.

I can feel Yurol slightly shaking from the adrenaline which has to be coursing through her veins, and Finnick is the first to speak. "What was that about?"

Yurol gives a nervous laugh. "You're asking us?" She laughs again on the verge of possible hysteria. "You didn't recognize her?"

"No, why would I?" Finnick asks.

"She's the girl you slept with at Kenin's party." I tell him.

"Oh." He softly replies.

Yurol steadies herself on a stall, and breathes in deeply. "Oh is right. That girl was under the impression you two were together."

I suppress a smile as Finnick rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "They always think a one night stand means so much more than just that: a one night stand."

"C'mon forgetful boy, let's get some food and let these two talk." I tell Finnick as I take his hand. "I'll see you later Yurol."

"Yeah." She responds a bit nervously, not quite able to look at Cameron yet. But knowing her, she'll talk with him.

Just in case though, I tell her. "We'll be around here for the next hour or so. If you need us, you'll know where to find us."

Finnick pulls me away before I can say anymore sisterly advice since Cameron does look like he's just waiting for us to make our exit. I smile and press my face to Finnick's arm. He kisses the top of my head and asks. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. The girl is the one who got punched by Yurol." I say.

"I know, I saw that. What was the girl saying?"

"She said you guys were kind of together, and since I didn't believe her, she questioned if I was delusional." I tell him.

Immediately Finnick stops walking, and I can tell he's pissed. "Then she got what she deserved."

Seriously, I say. "Finnick…"

"I mean it Annie." He replies standing by his statement. "No one has the right to speak to you that way. I'm sick of these girls treating you like you're nothing just because they're mad that I'm with you. I love you, they need to get over it."

I nod my head in exasperation. "And I love you too, but I can handle those girls. They can't ever make me question our relationship. They didn't when I found out before we got back together. I know you Finnick, trust that and ignore everyone else. Okay?"

He lets out a sharp exhale. "Okay. Fine. You're right. We can't listen to what everyone says."

"Correct." I smile. My stomach growls but I can only feel it since the noise from our surroundings drowns out the actual growl. "So I'm still starving, almost literally," I joke and Finnick just smiles at me in disbelief since I said that, "can we please get something to eat?"

"Yes, of course." Finnick replies. He pulls me closer and gently plants a kiss on my lips. "Thank you, for being so understanding about me and my past."

I kiss him back. "And thank you, for being so understanding about the slightly disturbed."

"Always." Finnick quietly assures me.

And while almost nothing is guaranteed, I know Finnick will _always_ mean it.

* * *

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

yayy! yes, i made them get back together, i mean c'mon, they're in love, they're victors, i didn't have much reason to keep them apart longer. until the 75th games at least

i'll do my best to update soon, thanks again! you guys inspire me to write


	37. Chapter 37: Turmoil

**alrighhtttt, let me begin by profusely apologizing! i know it has been FOREVER since i've updated. i've been having major writer's block and it's near the end of my semester so i have finals and all that, but still, i know you guys have been patiently/impatiently waiting and i truly truly appreciate the angry/expressive pleas/demands for me to update-it means a lot to me, seriously. **

**right now, i honestly feel like all my creativity has been sucked out (maybe it's because studying nothing but science is soul sucking-to me, especially when i would like my major to be creative writing) BUT, i will be doing my best to get the spunk back and update more frequently with more...inspiration. just realize this is how i feel and is my lame excuse for having not updated in -_- yesss, a month.**

**enjoy! (but i don't feel like this was a very good chapter if i'm going to be honest)**

* * *

**soooo, new update, (I'm seriously new to all this fan fiction and putting my writing on the internet) so i was reading the guidelines and found out theres a fiction press which i think will be good cuz its associated with this website and theres a large crowd of readers, so i will be posting my other stories i've been writing or have written(ish) on there if ur interested in checking out my other stuff. THOSE stories however will only be updated when i do because i drift some story to story and some of them willll remain unfinished, or not, but for those stories i will not be pressured to write with: update more: reviews lol since they are original rather than having a foundation already like this annie&finnick story. that is all =]**

**address for my original works is on my profile, but you need to add the ~ (squiggly line) or else it gives u a 404 error**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Seven: Turmoil**

_Annie POV_

A brilliant flash jolts me awake—heart pounding. Sweat soaks my nightclothes and I can feel my shirt matted to trembling flesh. The loud pattering of rain against glass fills the room as silence permeates everywhere else. I'm okay. I'm okay. Finnick is next to me sleeping, I am in his room, nobody else is here, I am safe—_crack!_

The sound of thunder sends me wheeling into the madness of memories from the arena. Suddenly, I'm back there. In the darkness, in the freezing rain, in the flashes of lightening, amongst the _cracks_ of thunder. My bare feet are slapping against the muddy ground filled with loose rocks—rocks similar to those in the crater. They cause me to lose my balance and fall. The same pain of the ground digging into my palms and knees is what I feel right now. It hurts.

In a daze, I slowly lift my hand from the wet ground and look at my bleeding palms. Small flaps of skin loosely dangle as blood quickly trickles out and is washed away by the rain. The flashes of lightening allow me to see this, but another _crack _of thunder causes me to tear my gaze from these injuries and to take off running again. Violent winds slash at my face and it feels like I'm running against the world. Being pushed back into the depths of torment I'd fought so desperately to escape. I can't go back. Not there. I need to get away.

Streaks of lightening fill the sky while simultaneous roars of thunder rattle the windows of shops and hurt my ears. I begin running with my hands desperately clamped over my ears because maybe that will block out those sounds of agony. In the windows' reflections—when a lit by the flashes—I catch glimpses of myself running by; I look crazy. I really do. Is this how other people see me? Am I only able to see the crazy during these extremes?

I can feel myself crumbling and slipping. Each roar of thunder that rattles me chips off a piece of who I am. I'm losing it. I know I am. It's getting harder and harder to hold on. The longer I run, the farther into the crater I go. Every fall brings me closer to returning to the state I'd been in after we'd scaled the cliff. We… Joln. Deep racking sobs shake my body tightening my chest to near impossible levels of breathing. Joln. He died. Lost his head. Was beheaded. Dead. Died. They all died. All of them.

Except me.

Strong hands grab my arms as I just make it onto the path leading to the beach. My screams are drowned out by the _cracks_ of thunder, and I do everything in my power to fight back. My fists pound against a firm chest as I try to push my captor away. "No!" I'm screaming and crying. "No!"

A powerful voice breaks through the thunder. "Annie! It's me! It's Finnick!"

I open my eyes and face my captor. It is Finnick—with thoroughly soaked hair falling into intense eyes. I press my hands to his chest keeping him at a distance. "The lightening! And thunder!"

"I know!" Finnick tells me through the rain. "I know!" He's furiously nodding as water runs down his face. He leans forward and caresses my left cheek with a cold hand. "But you don't have to go through this alone! You don't have to go to the cliffs!"

I try to wrap my head around what he's said. The cliffs… "They're all dead!" I scream through the thunder. "All of them!"

A long flash of lightening illuminates Finnick's face, and I see my pain reflected there. He understands what I mean. _Really_ understands. It's so cold that I can hardly feel Finnick's thumb stroking my skin. "Yes!" He agrees in a loud voice but it sounds soft through the chaos of nature. Finnick sadly nods and steps closer. "Yes they are!"

"Yes they are." I echo.

Then I step into Finnick's arms and collapse. He sweeps me up and I wrap my arms around his neck. As Finnick carries me back through the wind and rain and lightening and thunder, I press my face to his throat and cry. With this close proximity, I can hear my sobs and I know it's no better for Finnick. But I can't control myself. It's all too overwhelming.

Finnick never slows his pace or loosens his grip. The entire time, he holds me closely. He tightens his grip when he uses an arm to open the front door, reasserts his grip as he kicks the door shut, keeps it tight as he walks up the stairs, holds me tighter as he steps into the tub, briefly loosens it to turn the knob for hot water, then immediately brings his arm around me again as hot water runs over us. I continue sobbing long after steam has formed and proliferates every inch of the bathroom. And Finnick continues to hold me in his arms.

* * *

_Finnick POV_

I set Annie down on our bed and remove her drenched clothes. With a warm towel, I pat her dry until only her wet hair is left. Then I wrap the towel around her shoulders. There's cuts on Annie's hands and legs from when she fell down. They've stopped bleeding, so I think I can manage attending these injuries on my own. One by one I wrap gauze or lay bandages across the cuts.

When I finish, I bring the comforter around my beautiful girl. Annie lifts her head. "I'm sorry."

I get on my knees and bring my face closer. "Don't be. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about."

New tears fall from her eyes. "I do." She shudders. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Annie," I breathe, "you've been through a trauma. It's perfectly understandable."

She lifts a hand to her face. "The lightening, and thunder. It was all too familiar."

"I know." I tell her. "We all have flashbacks. It's going to happen."

Annie covers her face with her hands now, and shakes her head. I can hear the soft sobs and it tears at my heart. How can I make her understand that it's okay to be different? What can I do to make her believe she's perfect as she is? Very gently, I lift my hands and remove Annie's from her face. "Look at me."

She shakes her head with eyes closed.

"Look at me." I softly say.

After a few seconds, Annie opens her eyes.

I kiss her hands. "Do you want to know what happened to me when I had my first flashback?"

There's a flash of surprise in those green eyes. The bed shifts as Annie slides down to the floor to sit in front of me. "What happened?"

I move my legs so I can be sitting too. "It was shortly after I returned to Four. I thought going to the ocean would help me. It'd always brought me such comfort in the past, so why wouldn't it then?" It's hard to keep the dread out of my voice. "So I went there thinking it was the best thing I could do. But when I stepped onto the hot sand, I was suddenly back in the arena. Hearing the screams of tributes being burned, smelling the awful smell of scorched flesh and hair. Then there were the cries…from the tribute who Sandra murdered. All I could think was, how could no one else hear and smell what I was?"

Annie takes my hand giving me strength to continue. My eyes are closed. "It made me think of Emilia too. How badly her foot was burned. The flood of memories was too much. I ran. I went to Mags' house, convinced my feet had been charred black. It took her nearly an hour to calm me, and another hour to convince me that I was okay."

"You've gotten better though, right?" Annie asks.

I open my eyes and shake my head. "No, I haven't." It's a bit chilly in here, so I take some of the comforter and bring it over me. "It's still hard for me to walk on the sand. I try to avoid it if possible. That's why I go out to the ocean on a boat. The docks have a stone path and then wood. I don't have to walk on the sand." I bite my lower lip. "The games ruined a part of what I used to love about Four. The beach hasn't been the same for me. I still love it, but it's different."

Annie traces my veins with a finger. "But you seemed fine when you ran on the sand to save Herfe. And when you came to see me after I crushed the seashell." This makes a small smile play on her lips.

I smile. "It was hard for me then too. But the possibility of Herfe drowning outweighed my fear, and I really needed to talk to you then. Each step though, was a constant battle of suppressing the panic I was feeling."

"Does this ever get better?" Annie softly asks.

"I don't think it ever gets better, but it becomes easier." I say. A loud sigh escapes my lips. "The feelings, the sounds, the memories, they'll always stay with us. But in time, they become easier to control. You'll get stronger and be able to mentally fight the hysteria."

Annie leans forward and rests in my arms. "I don't want to be like this."

I stroke her back. "I know. It feels like it won't end, but it will. You'll be able to handle things when you're ready. Just take your time."

She kisses my forearm. "I love you."

I lower my head and kiss the top of Annie's head. "I love you too."

* * *

Sunlight floods my room and bit groggily I raise my head. My clothes are damp since I didn't change out of them. There's a pillow on the floor, indented with the impression of my head. I turn my head, but Annie isn't here! Instantly I'm on my feet. She's not on the bed. Damnit! How did I not notice she left? This is all my fault! I'm supposed to always be there for her! Damnit!

I'm running down the stairs and almost run out the front door when I backtrack a bit, and see Annie in the kitchen. She's at the stove moving something around in a pan. I enter the kitchen and Annie looks back at me with a smile. "Hey."

"Hey." I reply trying to keep my voice steady as the panic slowly subsides. "What are you doing?"

"Cooking us breakfast."

I come up behind Annie and wrap my arms around her waist, nestling my face in her neck. "You didn't have to do that."

She gives a soft laugh. "You're not the only one who can cook, you know."

Very slightly I raise my head and look at the pan. Honestly, I'm not sure about her latter statement. Yurol did say Annie can't cook, and I'll probably have to agree since parts of the food look burnt yet Annie is still cooking them. Also, I have no idea what she's cooking. But the gesture speaks for itself. I just kiss her cheek and relieve my weight from her.

I go to the fridge. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"Water is fine." Annie tells me while finally removing the pan. She dumps the food onto two plates and places the pan in the sink. "Ready to taste my awesome cooking skills?"

"Yes." I tell her and take a plate.

We sit by each other at the table. Annie waits for me to take a bite, so I do, and it takes everything in me to fight the gag reflexes. Thankfully my former habitual hangovers and the prostitution have helped me to hold things down. I force myself to swallow. "Not bad."

"Yeah?" Annie smiles and lifts a fork to her mouth. She takes a bite as I lift another forkful to my mouth, but then she spits out the food and knocks the fork from my hand. "Don't eat it! That's disgusting!" She's violently coughing trying to get rid of the taste. Annie begins chugging down her water. When she finishes her cup, she just looks at me. "How could you have eaten that? And you were going to eat more! Gross!"

I burst out laughing. "It wasn't that bad…"

"You're such a liar Finnick." Annie laughs. "That was terrible."

"Fine, it was terrible." I finally let up. "But it was sweet of you."

She shudders. "That was really disgusting. I'm a terrible cook."

I kiss her cheek. "We'll leave the cooking to me."

Annie gathers our plates, and heads back to the kitchen. She raises her voice so it carries over to me. "I'm sorry for wasting your food. But we can't eat this."

I've turned in my seat to look at her. "Let's eat at Mags'."

"Will she be okay with that?" Annie asks, making her way back.

"Of course." I stand up and hold out my hand. "She loves me."

"She's not the only one." Annie grins entwining her hand in mine. "I love you too."

It still feels like those three words come out of nowhere. Annie loves me. It's incredible. We haven't been back together for very long, but nothing has changed between us despite everything around us having changed. She loves me… I lightly kiss Annie's lips. "And I love you. More than anything."

A small amount of color rises in Annie's cheeks. She leans against my arm as we walk out of my house and towards Mags' home. I don't think she and Mags have spent a lot of time together, but I know my two girls will get along just fine.

I knock on Mags' door and a few seconds later it opens. Mags looks up at the both of us. "Here for breakfast?"

"How did you know?" I grin.

"Because you only ever come over when you're hungry. Or when you need something." Mags teases.

I hold my chest. "That's hurtful. Our love is not based on me using you."

Annie giggles and Mags shakes her head while opening the door so we can come in. "You're only saying that to make an old lady feel better."

* * *

_Annie POV_

Anyone watching Finnick and Mags interact can tell they both love each other immensely. In what way though? It's hard to say. Their playful banter hardly depicts a maternal quality from Mags, especially when she and Finnick almost joke a bit flirtatiously. I don't mind of course. She loved him through his worst times when he knew no other love. That's something that binds people together for a lifetime.

It almost feels as if Mags is an old friend—well, I don't mean literally even if it's true—who she and Finnick mutually decided to stay friends rather than being more. Of course there's the age difference, but it's hardly noticeable when they're together. I've never seen Finnick at such ease aside from when he's with me. But even then I cause him a lot of stress. I try not to let this bother me; I've thought it though, and now it won't go away.

Mags is carrying a bowl of eggs from the kitchen island towards the stove when she trips spilling the slimy yellow liquid onto Finnick's back. He lets out a small gasp of surprise, and turns around to see Mags guiltily holding the empty bowl as the eggs drip off his clothes onto the marble floor. His feet squish in the eggs as he moves towards the sink.

I'm standing on the opposite side of the kitchen island, and I watch as Mags looks at the bowl then back at Finnick. "It was an accident, I swear."

"I'm sure it was." He calmly replies reaching for the sink hose.

"You better not." Mags warns taking a step back.

Before she can react, Finnick's grabbed the hose, yanked it out, and sprays her. Mags yelps and drops the bowl where it shatters on the floor. In a feeble attempt to shield herself, Mags covers her face. "Turn it off! Turn it off!" She's shrieking with laughter in her voice.

Finnick is laughing uproariously. "Admit you did it on purpose."

"But I didn't." Mags protests. "I tripped. Annie saw me."

The water stops, and Finnick subtly positions the hose in my direction. I see the mischievous look in his eyes, so I begin to lean back. "Finnick…"

I involuntarily gasp as water hits my chest and a fine mist settles over my face and hair. Now Mags and Finnick are laughing as I try to defend myself to no avail. How do you stop water with your bare hands? You can't. You just have to go with it. So I do the first thing that comes to mind—grabbing a raw squid and flinging it in Finnick's direction. There's a loud sound between a _slap_ and _squelch_ immediately followed by a cease of water. Somehow the squid has managed to get Finnick partially in the face with its tentacles, and the rest of the squid is lying in his hair.

I'm laughing so hard that it's nearly impossible to get any air into my lungs, and I laugh harder as a shocked Finnick slowly removes the squid from his face. Mags is holding her sides leaning against the island, barely able to hold herself up. Finnick places the squid on the kitchen counter and sets the hose down. He's grinning and carefully steps over the broken pieces of ceramic. Even now, I am laughing way too much to move away despite knowing this is not going to end well.

And I'm right. Finnick comes up to me and rubs his face all over my cheeks inevitably making me smell like fresh squid. I vainly attempt to hold him at a distance as all our laughter echoes throughout the kitchen. Very sloppily, Finnick is planting kisses all over my face and I'm helpless to do anything else but squeal. Finally he stops and keeps his head leveled with mine.

With feigned seriousness, Finnick says. "No more throwing squid."

Just as seriously, I tell him. "No more getting me wet then."

Now Finnick raises an eyebrow and sighs with an amused smile. "Then I guess I'll just have to let you keep throwing squid at me."

"What?" I respond. "Why?"

"Oh, you dirty boy." I hear Mags mutter and tut a few times.

As it dawns on me, there's this huge idiotic grin on Finnick's face, and I absolutely love this playful demeanor. In defiance, I put my hands on my hips. "That's not what I meant!"

"Then you should ease my mind and change your shirt." He responds stifling a laugh.

I look down and see what he means. I'm wearing a white shirt and due to my loss of weight, I'm still not wearing a bra—evident because Finnick decided to soak me. Slightly embarrassed only because Mags is here, I cross my arms. "I thought I had to stop crossing my arms in front of you."

There's a _slap/squelch _and a squid slides down Finnick's neck. We both turn to look at Mags who is holding a wet rag. "My house is not meant for your sexual excitement Finnick." This makes me blush and Mags looks at me noticing my reaction. "Sorry dear, I don't mean to embarrass you. Let me get you a shirt—a _black_ shirt."

As Mags walks by, Finnick suddenly picks her up and spins around once while kissing her cheek. "Don't be so moody Mags. I'm just having fun."

"Let me go!" Mags says adamantly, but I can hear the amusement in her voice. Finnick sets her down, and she walks away shaking her head. "Always teasing. Always, always, always…"

Finnick turns back to me and rests his elbows on the kitchen island. Faint slime trails streak the side of his neck and I can smell him from here. I wrinkle my nose. "You stink."

He leans closer. "I can help you smell like me."

"No," I quickly reply smiling, "you smell like squid and eggs."

Strands of bronze hair are matted together from the squid I threw at him, but the strands fall, just so, to the side of those gorgeous sea green eyes. His arching cheekbones are lifted by the pull of his widening smile. And I'm taken aback by how stunning he looks.

But Finnick isn't beautiful because of his remarkably good looks. I love who he is and that makes everything about him beautiful. His face is the one I identify these emotions with. The feel of his body is the familiarity I've gotten to know so well. When I hear his voice, I know he is near and it gives me this great comfort. All of these things belong to him, and it's what I've grown to love.

I love him.

Finnick is warmly smiling, and he asks. "What?"

"What?" I ask because I didn't say anything.

"You're staring at me with this look." He tells me.

"Am I?" I question with feigned ignorance.

"Yeah, you've been sitting here with—"

My lips are press against Finnick's forcing him to stop talking. Because I do know exactly how I was looking at him. It seems impossible I've looked at him in any other way. The outpour of emotions as we kiss takes control of my head and body. To get so lost while remaining in the same place is an unexplainable feeling that numbs yet electrifies the soul. And I can't say if I'm breathing, but I feel more alive than ever.

Finnick's hand is pressed against my throat as he tilts his head deepening the kiss. I want him right now, but I have to remind myself we're in Mags' home. So I pull away from our kiss feeling a strange frustration. Worriedly, Finnick asks. "What's wrong?"

"I can't have you right now." I admit.

His eyes widen in disbelief. "What? Are you…are you saying what I think…"

Now I'm in disbelief because I have never been like this. Quickly my hands cover my face. "This has never happened before."

I feel Finnick wrap his arms around me and he kisses the side of my head. "I don't know why but I find it very sweet. That I can make you feel this way."

"Of course you make me feel this way." I mutter darkly.

I love the way Finnick laughs with such cheer and I think with a bit of self-assurance. He kisses the side of my head again making me flush. "We'll eventually be alone later." Finnick whispers.

This idea eases the frustration. I turn to him and kiss his cheek. "I love you."

Finnick presses his forehead to mine. "I love you too."

From the top of the stairs, Mags' voice comes down as she makes her way towards us. "I got the longest shirt I could find. But I'm so short it'll probably show some skin."

"That's fine." I tell Mags and take the shirt from her. "Thank you."

"Of course dear." She replies with a practically toothless smile. Then she looks at her kitchen and sighs. "Well, I think we should clean up this mess."

Playfully Finnick holds up his hands. "_I'm_ not the one who started this." His comment is met with another squid striking him in the chest. Mags is giving him a stern look and he sighs. "Fine. Let's get started."

* * *

"Will you stop fidgeting?" I say to Yurol. I turn to Joa. "Will you tell her to stop?"

Joa nudges his sister. "Stop it."

Exasperatedly, Yurol loudly sighs and drops her hands. "I can't help it. I'm nervous."

"Why?" I ask.

"_Because_," she emphasizes, "things between Cameron and I are still a bit rocky." She begins rubbing the bottom of her dress between her fingers. "Sometimes I can tell he's still angry with me. And I understand, but we've been trying to work through things alone. Now we'll be seeing how we do in public. What if it doesn't work?"

"You'll be fine. He loves you." I try to tell her.

Yurol just sighs again. "I don't know. Maybe he's holding onto old feelings."

Joa runs a hand through his black hair. "No, he loves you. I can tell. So stop worrying."

"What do you know about love?" She asks in an almost joking manner.

"I've seen you and him. That says enough." Joa replies.

The expression on Yurol's face is a bit surprised, and she puts a half closed hand to her chest. She softly says. "Thank you."

Embarrassed, Joa just shakes his head and rolls his eyes. "Whatever. I'm going to find my friends."

Before Yurol can say anything else, he quickly leaves disappearing into the crowd of people. We're at some kind of festival that our mayor, Gregory Higgins, decided to throw this year. We've had two consecutive victors from Four, so it's been a good run, which I guess gave him enough funding to throw this. It gives everyone a chance at free food and drinks as well as entertainment. They specifically sectioned off most of the streets throughout town.

I take Yurol's hand as we stand off to the side of one of the dancing areas. "So tell me what's going on."

Yurol begins in a shaky voice. "I don't know Annie. I think we might be over. We just haven't been honest about it yet."

"Why do you think that?" I ask giving her hand a squeeze.

"He's so distant still." She quietly tells me. "I see you and Finnick, and you guys have already gotten past what you guys went through."

"Yurol," I begin, "you can't compare you and Cameron to Finnick and I. We have very different circumstances."

She nods in agreement. "Exactly. You and Finnick have gone through a lot more. If Cameron and I still can't work through what I did, what does that say about us?"

I'm facing Yurol. "It's going to take time, you have it to give it a chance."

"Cameron and I have been together longer than you and Finnick." Yurol quietly tries to explain. "You and him were on and off, but you guys are doing a lot better. If things aren't better between us after all this time, then I don't know what to think. I love him so much, but if he can't love me like he did in the beginning…"

Yurol hastily wipes a tear from her left eye. "I mean, do you feel like Finnick loves you the same way despite everything?"

I'm about to protest saying she can't compare us, but the look in her eyes is begging for an answer. I fidget with my dress. "Yeah, I do."

"And you still love him the same way?" She asks.

"I do." I softly reply.

"Then you should understand that it wouldn't be enough if you felt this way, but you weren't sure how Finnick felt." Yurol says.

I try to imagine what if I wasn't sure about how Finnick felt. If he was distant because I'd pushed him away. I think I would feel that things were too different and I couldn't have anything less between us. It would be too painful. I can't be anything else but honest to Yurol. I've caused her too much harm with my lies.

I quietly admit. "You need to be able to let go of a person's faults. If you can't, then you won't move past it."

"Exactly." She says again. "We're not moving past it."

"We don't have to go to this." I say. "If you want, we can leave."

Yurol's looking over my shoulder. "No we can't."

I turn and see Finnick making his way over to me. He's grinning with such love and I can immediately feel the sadness in Yurol. Of course she's happy for me, but she also sees what she and Cameron are lacking. Finnick plants a kiss on my lips and I briefly return the pleasure. Aware that Yurol is watching us though, I pull away a few seconds later. There's almost a questioning look on Finnick's face, but he conceals it very well and simply puts an arm around me.

Leaning into him, I tell Yurol. "Yes we can. If you want, just say the word. Okay?"

"Okay." She slowly replies gratefully.

Finnick is gently running his hand along my upper arm giving me a great sense of comfort. His head is turned to observe the throngs of people. Most of the girls are wearing beautiful dresses that twirl and swirl with each step in sync with the musical beats, and the guys are dressed in the regular attire of pants and shirts. It's near sunset so the sky is ablaze in a mixture of potent colors. Orange, yellow, green, pink, blue, purple. There are also streaks of clouds varying in colors according to their location within the sky, and torches line the ground for the coming of night.

It's noisy and crowded and already warm, but I love it. It's nice to see everyone out having a good time. Well, almost everyone. Yurol is fidgeting with her light yellow dress again wearing out the fabric. I slap her hand and give her a look. "Stop it."

"I can't help it." She complains.

Finnick turns to us. "Can't help what?"

"Ruining her dress." I say.

"I'm not ruining it." Yurol protests. "I'm just…messing with it."

Sincerely, Finnick looks Yurol in the eyes. "It's a beautiful dress. You should listen to Annie. You both look stunning by the way."

I think Yurol is going to give Finnick some snide comment, but instead she faintly smiles. "Thank you."

Even Finnick seems a bit surprised. "No rude comment? About how I'm corny or lame or something along those lines?"

"Do you _want_ me to be rude?" Yurol sarcastically asks with her old vigor.

"That's more like it." He laughs.

We all laugh and I see a little bit of life flicker in Yurol. I have to assume it's been awhile since she's laughed. Have I been a bad friend? A bad sister? With Finnick and I starting over again, I'd been so focused on us. But I need to start spending more time with the Denfezes. Silently, I commit myself.

Yurol is smiling but it almost immediately falters when her eyes focus in the distance. I follow her gaze and see Cameron heading over. She tries her best to maintain her smile, but it doesn't seem as natural. A bit forced. Cameron is in front of us and he doesn't look too happy either. His blonde hair has been bleached even lighter, and his blue eyes are more piercing than ever. The intensity of Cameron and Yurol are so palpable that Finnick slightly stiffens and his hand gently squeezes my arm.

Finnick clears his throat and nods. "Hey."

Cameron looks at Finnick with a great amount of distaste. "Still here I see."

"Cameron…" Yurol quietly says.

"_What?_" He harshly snaps. The distraught look on Yurol's face makes me as if I've been slapped. "You can't be sticking up for _him_," Cameron emphatically points at Finnick, "after everything he's put you through. After everything he's _done_!"

Holding back the tears, Yurol desperately tries to calm him. "Let's just go, okay?"

But Cameron won't have any of it. Defiantly, he spats, "He's the one who put us in this situation, and you're here _socializing_ with him?" He gives a forced bitter laugh. "Like nothing ever happened. As if the slate has suddenly been wiped clean." Cameron just shakes his head now. "Don't you see how screwed up all of this is?"

"Stop it." Yurol pleads. "Please."

He gives a disgusted scoff. "I can't look at you anymore, I'm going. The sight of you makes me so angry," he bites off every word, "to point where I feel literally sick, Yurol. Sick!" Cameron is shaking. "You are so incredibly stupid."

I strike Cameron across the face feeling the sharp sting _crack_ across my palm. No one speaks to my sister that way! _No one._ My eyes lock with Cameron's. "What is wrong with you! How can you say something like that to the person you love!"

"_This_ is none of your business." Cameron darkly growls taking a step forward.

Finnick is suddenly in front of me, blocking my view. His voice is low and dangerous. "I think you better go. _Alone_."

Hatred drips from Cameron's voice. "You better stay out of this golden boy or you'll be—"

"What? Sorry?" Finnick laughs. "I wasn't a victor by chance, Cameron."

Two unbelievably long seconds pass.

Then Cameron says. "Fine, I'll leave. But just so you know, Odair, you're not the hero you think yourself to be. You walk around like a big hotshot, as if the small gestures of goodwill mean anything, but really, you're just the Capitol's puppet. You whore around with their women, indulge in their food and spirits. You're just like them." he sneers. I move out from behind Finnick, who's gone rigid, and see Cameron with a taunting expression. "So you're not a hero. Don't fool yourself. At the end of the day, you're no better than them. You're still a murderer." He begins walking away. "And nothing will ever change that."

* * *

.

.

.

.

.

.

yes yes, i agree, this chapter felt like fluff and doesn't seem like it should have taken a month to write. i know


End file.
